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NAZARETH 



TARSUar 




Class _BR|2- 
Book. S l4 



Gopyright^j" 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



TO 



Nazareth Or Tarsus? 



BY THE AUTHOR OP 

" Not On Calvary," "The First Millennial Faith," Etc. 




(Copyright 1901, by J. S. Ogilvie Publishing Company.) 



New York: 
J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
57 Rose Street. , ^^ 



J J J J 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

MAR. 5 1901 

Copyright entry 

CLASS ^Jt-XXc. No. 

COPY B. 






^ 



c« 
c c 



APOLOGY. 

So LONG as orthodoxy believes that its wisest 
course is to ignore the results of the higher criti- 
cism, he who would appeal to the occupants of the 
pews — nay more, desires to persuade that "man 
in the street'' whose relation to the divine testa- 
mentary gifts is that of residuary legatee to the 
man in the pew — must follow the example of the 
pulpit, and allow himself no participation in the 
fruits of critical scholarship. 



Nazareth or Tarsus? 



I. 

An open volume. 

Of The Man who stands before it courtesy per- 
mits the phrase ^^in the prime of life/' 

The Book, like Shakespeare, ^^is more praised 
than read" — thoughtfully. 

The Man is strangely alone. 

He was most unfairly handicapped in that 
midnight footrace; for his competitor was en- 
cumbered with but a single garment, and that 
of the lightest material. 

The starting post was the bedside of an un- 
faithful wife. 

Then he went out into the still, clear night, 
thanking God that the reflected shame was his 
alone to bear. Thankful that to no child-life 
would come the overshadowing ignominy of a 
mother's sin. 

Alone; without even the memory of mother^ 
sister^ brother, childi, 



13 'NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

Not but that he had experienced a mother's 
love, — on its reverse side. For the women — 
saintly women, if you will take their funeral ser- 
mons at their face value — whom he was obliged 
to call by that blessed name, had taught him 
that the maternal instinct in a woman is no ho- 
lier, though wiser, than if it were endued with 
hoofs and horns to defend its own young, or to 
secure for its own offspring daintier pastures 
and sweeter waters. 

There are oases in the desert; — but where the 
waters of Marah have fructified. Blessed are 
they who may abide under the beneficent shade 
that they foster. 

This is not a story we are telling you. Come 
with us, as step by step we walk by the side of 
this man, learning his strength and weaknesses ; 
and so, knowing his limitations, we may detect 
any mistake in his reasoning, any error in his 
conclusions. 

But we cannot rightly judge whether we 
should allow him to influence our opinions till 
we measure the sincerity of his purpose: and 
equally important it is to judge whether the iso- 
lating conditions of his life have made him hard 
and bitter or have fostered a calm, self -poised, 
Judicial temperament. 

Yet we may bp mm of this ; that if he is not 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 13 

hard and uncharitable he will possess a tender- 
ness, morbidly sensitive through retrospect of 
his own suffering, which will make him vulner- 
able to the attacks of those who could not vic- 
timize him through any low or selfish appeal. 

Once a gang of blackmailers had found the 
way to move his pity, knowing that he would be 
fearless and unguarded if his sympathies were 
aroused and his confidence won. When their 
masks were thrown off and he saw that they had 
him in their power — through the appearance of 
evil motive which they had skilfully woven about 
him — with no chance of escape, he would have 
drawn them into his power, by a pretended de- 
sire for a conf (3rence, and would have taken their 
lives as calmly as he would have destroyed any 
other kind of vermin. And to the spiritual com- 
forter who would have visited him in his conse- 
quent confinement, with an appeal for contrition 
and repentance, he would have answered that he 
could not ask God's forgiveness for what he 
would do again under the same circumstances; 
that it was the only gentlemanly w^ay out of his 
dilemma ; and if it was the choice of going to hell 
a gentleman or to heaven a poltroon and with a 
cruel wrong unavenged, then he must ask to be 
excused from taking the heavenly road ; and that 
he could not reconcile God's pity and justice with 
any regret on God's part that any of thlB mo^t 



14 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

merciless class of beings should be removed be- 
yond any possibility of further prosecuting their 
brutal calling. 

Perhaps there may have been some of the old 
heathen Norse blood in his veins ; and surely he 
was better fitted for Valhalla than for Heaven. 

But between his overpowering desire for a re- 
venge that seemed almost sacred — because per- 
haps morbidly exaggerating the crime of work- 
ing a great injury through an appeal to pity — 
there came the thought of her/^^half child, half 
woman/' who looked to him for that love and 
care and provision which he had pledged to her, 
in her loving dependence on him. He could not 
leave her to struggle alone and unloved. So his 
enemies' lives were spared. How close they 
came to death they never knew ; while he calmly 
bowed to the shame and loss which the male- 
factors fastened on him. 

Too late he had met that warning of a most ac- 
complished student of human nature : 

^^Kindnesses which can be reciprocated foster 
friendship; kindnesses beyond the power of re- 
payment engender hatred.'' 

Later, when he had become as conversant with 
his Bible as with Tacitus he never ceased to 
wonder that divine wisdom had not conveyed 
this warning; had left it to the heathen philog^ 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 15 

opher alone to place this beacon light, searching 
the soul as merely human light has seldom done. 
A light which — if it had lighted the Man's path 
in early life — would have saved him from the 
pitfalls that ingratitute had dug, and in which 
he had encountered his keenest sorrows. 



16 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 



II 



Six months ago he stood as he stands to-day, 
reverently closing the volume before him. 

To-day his face is firm and hard. A warrior's 
helmet would be a fit setting. Then it was se- 
rene and benignant; a calm restfulness pos- 
sessed it. 

It matters not how the impulse came : it may 
have been aroused by that eloquent and persua- 
sive preacher, Death : it may have been through 
retrospect of the treachery and ingratitude of 
those whom he had loved and trusted ; there came 
into his heart the longing to learn if there was 
a stable foundation for the hope of another ex- 
istence; where to exultant, eternal youth there 
was presented an ever developing knowledge: 
where the beautiful in myriad forms would ap- 
peal to such sublime virility that satiety would 
never stay the flow of endless enjoyment. 

It was his good fortune to have the friendship 
of one of those rare characters, whose evenly 
!)alanced intellects and generons impulses make 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 17- 

them the confidants and helpers of any who are 
in doubt or trouble. 

But, crossing the threshold of that friend's li- 
brary, he saw that the simple breakfast was un- 
tasted and that some grave problem oppressed 
him. 

^You are busy — hard at work — I will come 
again.^ 

^No,' was the answer; ^stay, I need you. You 
of all men in the world I am most gratified to 
see. Here,' and he almost thrust into his visit- 
or's hand the photograph he had been studying. 
Then, turning to some papers, he seemed to re- 
gard them carefully that he might in no way dis- 
turb his visitor's analysis of the ^^counterfeit pre- 
sentment." 

At length the Man laid down the picture. 
^Well, it ought not to be hard to trap him if 
he is within reach. He is vain, and that will 
make it easier ; he is brutal, and would be merci- 
less; it will require no fine work; it will be 
through his lower nature that you will trap him.' 

^You are right in your reading of his face,' 
the host replied. 

^It is the old story. A foolish girl was carry- 
ing on a romantic correspondence with a sup- 
posed attach^ of a foreign embassy. He had im- 
pressed on her that she must destroy his letters^ 
and he assured her that he destroyed hers. 



18 NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 

'She obeyed; so we have no evidence against 
him. Her letters were carefully preserved, and 
when he had secured a sufficient number he be- 
gan to ask her for loans. After he had obtained 
all that she could give he threw off the mask and 
demanded that she sell her jewelry, that she ob- 
tain money to pay her bills and send it to him, 
or he would use her letters to injure her. 

^All of these demands were typewritten and 
unsigned. So they are not evidence. 

^At last, every resource exhausted, confronted 
with bills she had obtained money to pay, half 
sick from fear of the scoundrel, she confessed all 
to her parents. 

%ast night they came to me. I am not on their 
visiting list. I am never invited to their func- 
tions. It was just a little amusing to observe 
the embarrassment they labored under as they 
appealed to one whom they regarded as their so- 
cial inferior for aid in a crisis that might seri- 
ously affect their daughter's social prospects. 
Any public prosecution they naturally dreaded. 
Indeed, there was no evidence to support it. They 
only desired to recover the compromising let- 
ters.' 

^There is only one way to recover those let- 
ters,' said the Man. 

^I know it,' was the answer, and the host's 
face showed the keen chagrin of one who knows 



VAZARETH OR TARSUSf 19 

the methods he should employ, yet is powerless 
to command them. 

^The Woman?' Intently the two men looked 
into each other's faces as the visitor asked this 
simple question. He, calm and impassive; the 
face of the other appealing mutely for help. 
Presently the visitor's face relaxed into a faint 
smile, and a slight gesture told of his ability to 
help. 

^You have relieved me from what I was re- 
garding as an almost hopeless position. For the 
parents I cared nothing. The mental sufferings 
of the girl had enlisted my interest, yet till you 
offered to help me I was humiliated by my power- 
lessness. But tell me — this woman, do you hold 
her by fear or through affection?' 

^Neither; through gratitude.' 

Then followed a short conversation that would 
have been unintelligible to a listener ; words ap- 
parently with no relation to each other ; half sen- 
tences such as only those can employ who know 
each other's hearts, and each so intent that words 
are almost needless, with each face fully in the 
light of the other's eyes. So the two men ar- 
ranged the details for the rescue of the girl from 
the power of her oppressor. 

As the visitor rose to leave he said: ^I value 
this woman's loyalty too highly to permit a need- 
less risk. Disagreeable as is the work, I must 



20 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

take ^^close shadow.'' I would entrust no one else 
with her protection. Give me Hart for "outside." ' 
And at whatever sacrifice on his part the loyal 
woman would have been protected in her peril- 
ous mission. 

His hand was almost on the door when his 
host recalled him. 

^How can I apologize for my thoughtlessness? 
You have given me all that I could have asked; 
yet to you I have not given one thought. Tell 
me what service I can render to you.' 

^One can safely give advice to a hungry man/ 
and the visitor laughingly called attention to the 
untasted breakfast; ^but to ask advice from an 
unbreakf asted man is a temerity that I trust I 
have the good sense not to be guilty of.' 

^If you were not so modest that you are blind 
to the intense relief you have brought to me you 
would know that my heart is so light that I 
could work for hours on the strength of that re- 
lief ; but' — and here he touched the bell — ^I will 
order a warm breakfast for two, and while it is 
preparing let me share any interest or any anxi- 
ety that you entertain. Now settle yourself in 
this easy-chair and let me have the pleasure of 
making myself just a little less your debtor.^ 

The lightheartedness and cordiality were so 
evident that they made it easy for the Man to 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 21 

reveal that longing which, next to Love, is hard- 
est for one sonl to unbosom to another. 

Then the host answered: ^You esteem me, I 
fear, more highly than I deserve when you say I 
am the one whose comprehensive, unbiased study 
has made me, in your view, the safest counsellor 
on a theme the importance of which I concede 
unreservedly. But its truths are of such a na- 
ture that each student of them must regard their 
evidences largely through the media of his ov>^n 
temperament. So I can only offer to you that 
which I feel will appeal most effectively to you.' 

He arose, and, taking from his desk a little 
book, he said: ^Here is a gift from a dear old 
lady who feels that she is responsible for my spir- 
itual welfare. To tempt me to read it she writes 
to me that it is the Index Expurgatorius of 
orthodox religious bookstores. Its brevity at- 
tracted ine more. That the author is in earnest 
is evident. That he has struggled up — 
as he believes — to a light that he wishes to im- 
part to others is equally clear. He is too rev- 
erent to destroy where he does not try to recon- 
struct on lines that he believes to be true and 
natural. I give it to you, this little ^^Not on Cal- 
vary," knowing that you vrill weigh it care- 
fully, confident that you will detect any false 
reasoning, if such it contains.' 



33 NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 

Not many days after this consultation there 
came to the home of the foolish virgin a woman 
whose cultivation and refinement were evident. 
Her demand for an immediate interview she 
apologized for, ^because moments may be pre- 
cious. Examine this package/ she said. ^If any 
letters are lacking it is best that I should receive 
these again and restore them at once, that I 
may recover all.' 

Presently the girl's face told her without 
words, by the look of relief that suffused it, that 
the number was evidently complete. 

^Believe me, dear child, my relief that my 
work is ended is little less than your joy that 
you have escaped from his power.' 

But now the visitor saw a look of mingled con- 
tempt and fear on the mother's face. ^My dear 
madam, I understand you perfectly, since you 
take no pains to conceal your thoughts. Our 
low estimate of others is largely a reflex of our 
own characters — unless we have been terribly 
unfortunate in our experiences. No. You have 
not exchanged one danger for a new one. Your 
secret is safe with me, for the sake of the man 
for whom I have made this sacrifice — greater 
and more repugnant than you can understand. 
But' — and here she held out her hand to the 
girl — ^I believe that you trust me.' 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 33 

^Indeed I do, and I shall never forget your 
kindness. Come again and see me; I want you 
to be my friend.' 

^Thank you, dear child. And I am sure that 
when a true and loyal love comes to you you will 
value it all the more for the counterfeit that you 
have received.' Then, holding her hand, she im- 
pressed the willing girl into such sincere cour- 
tesy in leave-taking that the mother was silently 
but emphatically rebuked. 



24, -NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 



III, 



Self-reliant^ shrinking from taking others 
into his confidence — even when it was a matter 
of small moment — it was only a sense of duty 
which impelled the Man to give publicity to his 
new convictions. 

Perhaps he was not fortunate in his choice of 
the clergyman through whom he desired to make 
a public avowal of his newly found faith. 

Simply and unreservedly as a little child he 
told the story of his weariness wdth the humiliat- 
ing and contemptible conditions of living ; of his 
hope that there was irrefragable proof — at least 
presumptive evidence of the validity of the claim 
of the Man of Galilee that he came with power to 
reveal a future life of happiness ; telling, too, of 
his longing for fitness for such an exalted and 
restful existence. 

Kindly, tactfully, the clergyman drew from 
him the history of the methods of reasoning and 
the influences that had led him to recognize the 
truth of the beneficent mission of the life begun 
in Bethlehem. 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS f g5 

^Let me see the little book that has been the 
means of convincing you that there is a future 
worth the attaining to and which has guided you 
into the knowledge of the Avay that leads to that 
life.' 

Prepossessed in its favor, the clergyman re- 
ceived the book. But his face became ominously 
clouded as he glanced over its pages. Slowly 
closing the book, he handed it back to his visitor. 
For a moment he sat in silence. Then, as if im- 
pelled to the performance of a painful duty, he 
said : 

^My friend, saddest of all error is that which 
misleads through the glamour of sincerity. Such 
I believe is the ignis fatuiis that you have fol- 
lowed. False light I believe it to be, although 
it has led you to a peaceful faith. But that 
faith is wrongly founded. Covertly, yet none 
the less intently, this little book attacks the 
teachings of Paul the Apostle. Eeverently its 
author regards the mission of our Lord. But I 
appeal to your good sense — rather let me say to 
that skill in the analysis of evidence with which 
you are so justly credited. 

^On the one hand, St. Paul supernaturally con- 
verted by a revelation of the risen and reigning 
Christ — and divinely called to be an apostle of 
Christianity, especially commissioned to preach 
the Gospel to the Gentile world. Under divine 



26 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

inspiration he wrote tiie epistles which bear his 
name. The doctrines set forth in these writings 
have stood the test of the most rigid investiga- 
tion and were the inspiration of those great ref- 
ormations which eliminated many of the errors 
which had crept into the church. 

^Surely if St. Paul's doctrines had been con- 
ceived in error — founded on falsities — the 
searching intellects of those great reformers 
would have discovered the fallacies of his prop- 
ositions. 

^Is it within the bounds of probability, I might 
almost say of possibility, that errors — so rad- 
ical and so profound as this little book implies 
are incorporated by the canon of St. Paul in the 
universal Christian faith — could have escaped 
the critical acumen of those intellectual giants, 
Calvin, Luther, and the Westminster divines? 

^On the other hand, we have opposed to them 
an obscure writer, admitting himself to be un- 
skilled in theology, inveighing against the doc- 
trines that have stood the test of nearly two 
thousand years; doctrines that have survived 
through all those centuries the attacks of athe- 
ists and founders of schismatic sects ; yet stand- 
ing to-day as firmly grounded in the basic faith 
of Catholics as of Protestants; and not less of 
the Greek churchy of the Armenian, and of all 
other Christian communions. 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 27 

^Let me ask you to apply to this investigation 
that law of probabilities on which, I presume, 
you have founded your success in your profes- 
sion.' 

^I acknowledge the force of your argument; I 
admit the weight that is due to the consensus of 
belief throughout the Christian world. But you 
are not so wise in your personal appeal. 

'So far from my successes being based on — as 
you say — the law of probabilities, let me remind 
you that most successful men do not run with 
the multitude in the easy grooves of probabilities. 
Parallel with them, perhaps ; or it may be coun- 
ter to them ; but never adown them is a great 
success overtaken. But my profession has taught 
me to hold lightly, — that I may drop readily, if 
faulty, — any thread of investigation; nay more, 
to be ready to couple with it, even if promising 
a success, any new one that possesses any ap- 
pearance of leading to the truth. So I ask you 
to tell me where I can best learn of the teaching 
of Paul the Apostle. I assure you that I will 
enter on the study unprejudiced by that which 
I have previously read. In my daily life I am 
constantly impressed with the fact that truth is 
many sided; and its brightest facets may be un- 
recognized till that is cleared away which ob- 
scures them. Unreservedly I yield to your ar- 
guments ; and I am allowing no protests from my 



28 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

^^superior ignorance"; an ignorance which, I 
assure you, I will overcome if you will teach me 
how to do so/ 

^Certainly — and it is always a joy to me to 
aid anyone who is willing to learn the true 
guide to such knowledge ;' and as the clergyman 
spoke he handed to his visitor the Book, open at 
the first chapter of the Epistle to the Eomans. 
^Were all else lost, this one letter would have 
given to Christianity that which has enshrined 
St. Paul in the hearts of all believers. Then turn 
back to St. Luke's story of his great Master's 
life, a life that was so full of privations ; so glori- 
fied by his devotion to his mission. Then go for- 
ward and read his fervent appeals to the con- 
verts ; his devoted love to his children in Christ. 
You cannot fail to give him your reverent ad- 
miration.' 

^You have described a great preacher, but you 
have told me nothing of his doctrines,' was the 
calm reply. ^Will you please outline them, that 
I may know what the church of to-day demands 
as the foundation of belief?' 

And the clergyman answered: 'I know that 
your analytical mind will recognize as irrefrag- 
able this chain of argument by which St. Paul 
maintains his doctrines : 

Tirst : That God created man into a state of 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 29 

innocence and gave him a commandment, which, 
if broken, brought the penalty of eternal death. 

^Second: That man broke the law and thus 
fell into a state of guilt which exposed him to 
the wrath of God in this life and throughout 
eternity. With the first man all mankind fell 
and were brought under the same condemnation. 

^Third : The sin being infinite, an infinite sac- 
rifice must be offered to appease the Divine jus- 
tice. 

Tourth: That this infinite sacrifice was of- 
fered in the suffering and death of Jesus Christ, 
who, being the second person of the Trinity, be- 
came man, and shed his blood for the sin of man ; 
thus satisfying the claims of Justice. 

^Yet, better than answer of mine, are the 
words of the blind Milton, who was compensated 
for his loss of vision by a clearer spiritual in- 
sight : 

''Man J, losing all^ 
To expiate his treason hath naught left^ 
But to destruction sacred and devote 
He with his whole posterity must die : 
Die he or justice must; unless for him 
Some other ahle^ and as loilling^ pay 
The rigid satisfaction: death for death/^ 

And their inspiration was in St. PauPs fearless. 



30 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

unqualified insistence on the doctrine of atone- 
ment through the blood of Christ. Read his 
epistles and you will learn the truth of the mis- 
sion of the Christ.' 

The enquirer listened respectfully, yet re- 
solved to find and to follow the truth ; whether it 
led him with the multitude or alone into the wil- 
derness. 

Perhaps there was a degree of chagrin at his 
discomfiture in the impulse that led him — before 
he entered on these studies — to read again the 
little book; but this time side by side with the 
words of those who had been chosen by the Life 
to be the historians of His acts, the recorders of 
His utterances. 

^Eeverently its author regards the mission of 
our Lord' — he remembered that the clergyman 
had said of the little book. And as he compared 
the book with their teachings he found no in- 
justice had been done by its author to the evan- 
gelistic writers. 

And now there came before him a condition, 
which in a mind less self-reliant and analytical 
would have produced one of two results. Possi- 
bly a yielding of the judgment to the asserted 
authority of the church; but far more likely to 
have sent him to join that great body of semi- 
unbelievers who put aside the consideration of 
divine truth because they claim that they can- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 31 

not understand its complexity; the fault theirs 
equally with those public teachers who have 
placed before them the temptation to thus avoid 
their duty. 

Let us then consider the condition which con- 
fronted him. There seemed to be a choice be- 
tween two conclusions only. First, that the Life 
had purposely omitted to convey a system of 
theology to those whom he had chosen as His 
historians; and that later He had revealed this 
system to Paul the Apostle, and through him to 
the world; or, secondly, that the Life did not 
comprehend its mission, and so did not recog- 
nize while on earth the need of revealing to man- 
kind that system of theology and that theory of 
his office — a knowledge of which was essential to 
an availing of the benefits of His life and death ; 
and so a later revelation was needed, and this 
knowledge was conveyed through St. Paul. Then 
— in either case — the little book was grossly in 
error, or worse, in suppressing these important 
truths of later revelation. That there might be 
another proposition; that neither of these was 
true, did not occur to him, so perfect was his 
confidence in his teacher. 

Desiring to devote all of his attention to the 
study of the evidence presented to him, there 
were appeals made to him which he could not 
resist; there came demands on his time which 



33 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

engrossed him in behalf of others. But one 
evening, too weary for study, he had taken up 
the Gospel of St. John to beguile the hour with 
the beauty of its presentation of the love of our 
Lord. He read on uncritically till he came to 
the words : ^^But now ye seek to kill me. . . . 
Ye do the will of your father. ... Ye are of 
the father, the devil ... he was a murderer 
from the beginning.'' 

Carefully he reread these sentences, studiously 
he examined the intervening words to see if he 
had done violence to the meaning of these sen- 
tences by grouping them together; critically he 
examined the context to find if it modified the 
apparent continuity of thought. Assured that 
the grouping did no violence to the meaning of 
the words, he closed the book. For a long time 
he sat overcome by the thoughts that crowded. 
Fatigue was forgotten now in the absorbing con- 
sideration of the vista that these words opened. 
By the side of them he placed the words 
of the clergyman : ^^Without shedding of blood 
there is no remission of sins.'' A less robust in- 
tellect would have been appalled at the complex- 
ity of thought which this juxtaposition engen- 
dered, as he questioned with himself as to what 
were the relations to one another, of these tran- 
scendent personalities that were to be partici- 
pants in this impending shedding of blood. 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 33 

Were the Uxo divine personalities unable to 
effect the atoning sacrifice without the co-opera- 
tion of that fallen angel whom they had deposed 
from heaven? Or had he intruded his partici- 
pancy, and the Divine were unable to repel him? 
And why did he take a part in this shedding of 
blood if that sacrifice was to be the means by 
which the Christ would overcome him? Why 
should he be so earnest in his purpose to effect 
the undoing of his own undoing of the race? 
Surely not through ignorance^ for in the desert 
and on the pinnacle of the temple he had recog- 
nized and battled with the Divine. 

The midnight hour bade the Man to rest. But 
for days thereafter these questions were the un- 
dercurrent of his thoughts. 

And then there came into his heart the longing 
for peace. Why not seek it in the Roman com- 
munion? It forbade such vain searching after 
truth; it asserted its possession of authoritative 
revelation of truth. To those who succeeded him 
there had been handed down by him to whom the 
Christ had delivered the keys of his church the 
power to distinguish truth from error. So it 
claimed: and why not seek the peace it offered 
through this claim? But the proof? What is 
the evidence that the Christ did not complete the 
Messianic message, but had left important truths 
for those later revelations on which the Eoman 



34 IslAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

church founded so much of its claims to unques- 
tioning credence? Why, St. Paul! Yes, St. Paul. 
He must be the corner-stone of that church's 
claims, for to him — first of all — there came the 
vision of heaven and the bestowal of revelations 
that the Lord could not or would not communi- 
cate to His chosen twelve : revelations on which 
are founded the basic doctrines of the Christian 
church in its entirety — so the clergyman had told 
him. 

In unmistakable terms the Lord had thus pro- 
claimed through St. Paul the incompleteness of 
his teachings on earth. So the Roman church 
was logical in its claim that all down the ages 
it had received fresh revelations of the Divine 
will. Then he recalled that twice within his cen- 
tury the Roman church had received such evi- 
dences of the Divine favor ; revelations that were 
the complement, the natural sequence, of those 
of which St. Paul had, at the outset, been the 
medium. Yes, there is rest, if the evidences of 
revelations are unassailable ; and if they are as- 
sailable, the corner-stone, St. Paul, must first 
be found to be unsound. Yet this power that the 
church claimed — what if that should fall into 
over-zealous or even unscrupulous hands? 

Vainly and long he sought the test for this. 
Yet the more intently he pursued it the more it 
eluded him. He was convinced that his reason 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 35 

could not comprehend the methods of this test. 
There seemed no alternative but to subscribe to 
belief in that which was beyond his comprehen- 
sion; and the maze became more bewildering at 
each step. Grimly there came to his mind the 
Hibernian definition of faith : ^^The gift of God 
that enables you to believe what you know isn't 
true." But at last he rose and took a volume* 
from his shelves and read : 

" ^Yes/ said the tall and solemn elder, ^it is 
indeed nothing less than a revelation received 
by the head of the church last night. It con- 
cerns both you and your daughter.' 

" ^My daughter/ gasped the woman, in 
scarcely audible tones, and I saw one hand grasp 
the back of a chair convulsively. 

" ^Your daughter, who has now grown to wo- 
manhood/ continued the elder, ^and owes her 
allegiance to the church.' 

" ^What is the revelation?' the woman forced 
her drawn lips to ask. . 

u ^Through the grace of the all-wise Father 
it has been revealed to his disciple, Brigham 
Young, that your daughter Clarissa should be- 
come the third wife of Elder W , here present 

with us.' 

"An awful silence ensued, and then a con- 

* Mrs. J. K. Hudson, in T/ie New Lippincott, 



36 ISiAZARETB OR TARSUS f 

vulsive movement in the woman's throat, as if 
her voice refused to utter a sound, attracted the 
attention of all, and the men bowed their heads 
that they might not see." 

The Man gave a sigh of relief. ^That danger 
is past. If brutal lust can successfully simulate 
divine revelation; can invoke its semblance to 
sanction its outraging of all that is pure in wo- 
manhood ; then I demand of the faith that I ac- 
knowledge that it be untainted by the slightest 
suspicion that any revelation to which it lays 
claim is soiled by sordid motive. It must give 
me indubitable evidence that he, through whom 
the revelation came, was a prophet of pure vision, 
of clear and judicial intellect which did not re- 
fract truth through vanity or prejudice. 

^Now to the study of St. Paul. I have faith in 
my teacher. Yet with an earnestness that I 
never before employed I will analyze the evi- 
dence of St. PauFs fitness to be the prophet who 
revealed our Lord's true mission to mankind.' 

Never before had he attempted to solve a prob- 
lem that had so perplexed him — because never 
before had he been shut in between two opposing 
truths. Truths they must be; for God's minister 
had endorsed ^^essential to salvation" across the 
dicta of Paul, while to the beloved disciple was 
attributed the seemingly conflicting words of his 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 37 

Master. ^Could it be/ he asked himself, ^that there 
is demanded an insight superior to mere mental 
vision, to reconcile these? For surely no human 
intellect can bring order out of the chaos that 
these create. Perhaps, after all, the Catholic dev- 
otee is right when he surrenders individual 
judgment and admits the claims of his church 
that it possesses a divinely endowed power to 
recognize truth : a poAver mysterious and incom- 
prehensible except to those through whom God 
has made His revelation.' 

But these were only passing thoughts. The 
Man's intellect was too virile — perhaps intellec- 
tual pride may have been a potent influence — to 
permit him to accept any solution to which his 
judgment did not assent. Yet, turn which way 
he would, like the angel with the flaming sword, 
this question barred the way: ^If the Divine 
sacrifice was essential to the salvation of the 
race, why was the devil impelling his ^^children'' 
to effect the atoning death?' and Was it from 
choice or necessity that God admitted the devil 
as co-worker in the plan of salvation?' And — 
though less important than the first — there came 
another question : ^Why did the Lord denounce 
those who were necessary instruments in carry- 
ing out the Divine plan of salvation?' Yet till the 
Man had read all that his teacher had indicated 
to him he would suspend judgment. 



38 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 



IV. 



^I THANK you for the lesson you have given 
me to-day.' 

The speaker was a splendid specimen of man- 
hood. The Man admired handsome animals ; and 
it was the torso and limbs of an athlete that 
commanded favorable regard when the vacant 
place in his employ was applied for. He had 
accepted the applicant, partly because there was 
a ^^black mark'' opposite his name, for the Man 
knew that in this lay the possibilities of devel- 
oping a fides Achates. 

And the lesson. 

Ten miles behind them they had left the 
county jail, and now they are nearing the home 
of the Man. Almost silently they had watched 
the noble bay as he swayed from side to side, 
breasting the storm and breaking his way 
through the heavily gathering snow, never slack- 
ening his gait, though from time to time an ear 
was turned backward in that silent appeal for 
encouragement which only an intelligent horse 
will make and which only a true lover of horses 
can interpret. 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 39 

As they had entered the heavy doors of the 
prison it was evident that the Man was not a 
stranger there and that he was regarded with re- 
spect. 

^Let me see the man who was committed on 
the Tth. I would like to talk with him, with 
your permission.' This to the official who had 
received him with such marked deference. 

With an expression half cowed, half brazen, 
and wholly suspicious, the prisoner shambled 
through the door that opened from a double tier 
of cells. 

His visitor met him more than half way, then 
led him to a chair and sat by his side. ^Thank 
you for coming out to meet me.' The voice had 
a cheery, distrust-dispelling ring. ^Now, we are 
going to be good friends ; and I will help you if 
you will let me.' 

As he spoke he dropped from his own knee to 
that of the prisoner a slab of tobacco. Lying 
there, it served as a drawbridge on which a new- 
born confidence was timidly venturing to meet 
the visitor. 

Presently the prisoner placed the gift in his 
pocket; but the expression of his face showed 
that he was apprehensive lest it might possess 
some of the qualities of the Trojan horse: that 
it might include some secret power that could 
open the gates of his soul to a w^atchful enemy. 



40 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

^Your old pal said it was just your size.' 

The prisoner's face lighted up as his visitor 
named the associate. But this ^slang' name, as 
well a^ the thieves' vernacular in which the pris- 
oner spoke — and which his visitor used so far as 
was needed to establish confidence^ — it would be 
an affectation to repeat here. 

^But I thought that he was keeping shady.' 

'So he is; but you know that we must trust 

some one; and by the way, the — gang are 

boasting that they have put you out of harm's 
way for at least ten years.' 

Then there burst from the lips of the inmate 
an exuberant efflorescence of profanity that evi- 
dently had its roots in his soul, and these were 
fructified by the intensest hate. 

With seeming carelessness the visitor had 
made the remark ; yet he knew that the success or 
the failure of his important mission depended 
upon how the apparently indifferent remark was 
received. The prisoner was too much absorbed 
in his ^cursory remarks' to observe the deep 
breath of relief and the faint smile that assured 
success had elicited. 

^Now, my dear fellow/ and the visitor laid 
his hand on the inmate's shoulder — rising as he 
spoke — ^my friend here is all right, but you and 
I can chat more freely at the foot of the corri- 
dor. Come;^ and together they went to the end 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 41 

of the long passage. As they stand there silhou- 
etted against the clear light let us regard them 
for a moment. One, erect, with a military bear- 
ing that made soldiers instinctively salute as 
they passed him. The other, cringing yet reck- 
less; manhood gone, but defiant, as if fate had 
done its worst. 

Presently the Man extends his hand. The pris- 
oner's is half outstretched to meet it, only to be 
withdrawn in the yaccilation of a spirit that has 
learned the lesson of distrust through falseness 
to itself. But in another moment as he reads 
truth and honor in the face of the Man the re- 
luctant hand is impelled, as if by an impulse of 
distrust of his own distrust. So the weak thief 
and the strong man pledged faith to each other. 

A short conversation follows, the visitor mak- 
ing a few notes in his tablets, showing them to 
the prisoner lest he might fear that confidence 
had been strained ; then they are ready to return. 



42 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 



V. 



Some weeks later the press was loud in the 
praises of the alertness of the police of a small 
city because it had thwarted the attack on the 
home of a bank cashier whom it \\ as intended to 
force into revealing the combination of the safes 
of his bank. 

Yet apparently the condition could not have 
been more favorable for successful entering. The 
policeman on that beat was evidently asleep. The 
window of the house yielded without a sound to 
the jimmy; the operator had no difficulty in un- 
fastening the street door that his fellows might 
enter. But immediately the hall where he stood 
was flooded with light and at the head of the 
stairway he saw the form of the cashier crouch- 
ing motionless in the shadow. 

Lightly bounding up the stairs, the burglar 
drew his revolver and covered the unmoved form, 
which maintained that serenity which one has a 
right to expect from a lay figure which has never 
done anything to shatter its nerves. 

The ^drowsy' policeman^s Winchester glit- 
tered chillily as the burglar turned at the ^hands 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 43 

up!' that came from the doorway which he had 
left open for his pals. But they were detained 
outside. For two noisy roysterers who would 
not 'go home till morning/ and had to cling to 
each other for mutual support, had suddenly been 
sobered and passed noiselessly up to the pals and 
gave each a wrenching grip on arm and shoulder 
which made each stand quietly^ bending over 
with pain, in an attitude as if looking for lost 
valuables; while a most disreputable looking 
tramp crawled out from under the veranda 
where he had been asleep, growling because he 
had been awakened from his nap, and was shuf- 
fling away. But when ordered to assist in secur- 
ing the burglars he applied the bracelets with a 
deftness and celerity that was remarkable in a 
novice. 

Behind the foliage on the other side of the 
street crouched a woman. Her rigid face and 
staring eyes were like those of the dead as she 
watched the silent procession. For there was 
one man there to whose aid she would have gone 
had he been wounded ; though the devotion would 
have cost her commitment. 

She had been a most faithful servant — ^such 
a treasure ! — ^so superior to her class !' 

In a safer hiding-place than her trunk she had 
carried away blue-prints and drawings of the 
iuterior ; while her faithful heart had carried all 



44 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

of the details of the complete piping off of the 

house of the cashier. 

And now the faint tinkle of the steel links 

seemed like a far-off knell ; for dead to her for ten 

long years at least would be the man she loved. 
****** 

The prisoner and his visitor have returned to 
the main corridor of the jail and have joined the 
Man's attendant. 

^We owe my friend here something for leaving 
him alone/ said the Man. ^Oome, now, tell him 
some of your experiences.' 

^Experiences — nothing,' and the prisoner 
turned away half sullenly, leaning his head on 
his hands. 

^Doesn't it pay?' The words came slowly 
and with a shade of taunt in the tone. The Man 
was intent on drawing him out. The lesson must 
be taught. 

Tay ? Pay? Pay hell ! Say, do you believe in 
a devil? I do!' And the prisoner sat erect and 
faced his hearers, his manner almost defiant. 
^He draws us on ; he stirs up all the recklessness 
and false pride in us. And then, when he has 
ruined and betrayed us, he laughs at us. I m.ean 
it. I have seen him come into my cell and gloat 
over me; and when I struck at him my fist went 
through him into empty air.^ It was a the- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 45 

ory of the Man that no healthy mind consents to 
crime. 

^And back again to prison we go after a few 
weeks — at most a few months — of freedom. 

^But what is there for us but crime when we get 
out? We know that we have the prison pallor; 
we fear we have the lock-step to further betray us 
as criminals. If kind hearts secure work for us 
our past must be told. He may begin well ; but 
we get tired of being regarded with pity at the 
best; perhaps with contempt. The reckless 
devil in us is waked up, perhaps by reading of a 
successful crime — successful till the sleepless vig- 
ilance of the police run it down. 

^Then we are at it again ; and in we go again. 
That settles it ; we are ^^professionals" then, and 
we have no place to go when our time is up but 
into the haunts of thieves. We have longed 
for time-up, and we mean to be more cautious. 
Society, we feel, is our enemy, and we will make 
it '^life against life'' if we get in a tight place. 
But we don't. We get caught again, and we curl 
up like whipped dogs — if the odds are not in 
our favor. 

^Maybe it's the women who pull us down. 
They are kind to us when we come out. Maybe 
it isn't all selfishness on their part. We are men 
and they are all the women we have; and when 
they welcome us and expect nothing from us — 



46 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

for a time at least — we lay our heads in their 
laps like Samson, and Ave listen to their stories 
of how different gangs have made big hauls and 
how generous they were to their women. And 
as the days go by, and we are idle, they rally us 
on our lost nerve. 

^Then our false pride is aroused and we go 
out to win — perhaps. And if we win we are 
proud if it ; and we boast of our success to them 
— in acts, maybe, more than words ; and they be- 
tray us. Not intentionally ; they have a woman's 
love of gossip; they love, like other women, to 
show their knowledge of what is going on in 
their world; and how can they be truer to us 
than they are to themselves? And soon the gos- 
sip filters down to where the police have their 
lines out to catch any bits of information. And 
we are run in. 

^Do you think that we confess to the police? 
Not much ! Our lawyers have taught us to keep 
our mouths closed — if no one else has — ^and we 
have learned by experience that the police can- 
not get us shorter terms if we confess. But they 
have the game in their own hands. There is no 
one to dispute them ; but usually they are right. 
We travel beaten paths, and it is easy to follow 
our path once they are on it, and that path 
usually leads through a gambling house. The 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf '^^ 

^^confession" shields some one who has peached 
on us — and jurymen read the newspapers. 

^But I could tell you stories of the devotion of 
the wives of thieves; how they grow gray and 
worn supporting themselves and trying to lay by 
something till their men are free: how their 
women's eyes see through the weakness or the 
treacherous nature of the men their husbands 
intend to make their pals; how their women's 
love sharpens their wits to find the safest ways 
to work or to elude the police. Often they could 
save their men from detection if the husbands 
w^ould only be guided by their wives.' 
He stopped awhile, then cynically added : 
^Yes. If a few days of wild pleasure is 
enough for years inside of prison walls then it 
pays.' 

^There is a storm gathering, and we have a 
long ride before us ; else we would stay and chat 
longer with you.' 

The lesson had been taught and the Man was 
ready to go. ^And now a word of advice. Listen 
attentively to the chaplain. If he observes you 
and seeks you out personally do me the favor to 
show him that you value his counsels. I am not 
advising you to play the hypocrite. You can be 
sincere if you choose, and I hope you will be.' 

^I will promise to do the best I can to follow 



48 NAZARETH OK TARSUS f 

your advice.' Needlessly long the prisoner held 
his visitor's hand as he bade him good-bye. It 
was more than parting with the man who Avas the 
first in many years whom he had trusted. He 
felt that he was parting from honesty and honor. 
As the visitor passed out he asked for and re- 
ceived the address of the chaplain. 

The ofl&ce of public prosecutor is one in which 
many a travesty or miscarriage of justice is 
effected. That is inevitable where the ^one- 
man power' has no check. In a wiser jurispru- 
dence this needless temptation as well as danger 
will be guarded against. But, on the other hand, 
there can be such discriminative skill in using 
leniency as a means to acquire important evi- 
dence that the arbitrary power of that office may 
make it a safe repository of information ; so that 
the otherwise impracticable methods of justice 
will be made effective. 

To such a wisely administered office there 
came the knowledge of what the prisoner had 
done to prevent a great crime. 

So when the kind chaplain bore witness to the 
prisoner's penitence the public prosecutor had 
pretext for asking that the greatest possible len- 
iency be shown to the penitent. 

And when the judge gave only a light sentence 
the good chaplain came forward and grasped the 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 49 

prisoner's hand, certain that it was through his 
ministrations — and these alone — that the miti- 
gation was established. 

But the prisoner looked, through eyes dimmed 
by gratitude, beyond the clergyman wondering 
at the strange indifference, to the Man whom he 
knew has kept his word, and had unobtrusively 
wrought the mitigation of his sentence. 

Then he, for whose sake the lesson had been 
elicited, resumed: 

^I am not afraid to tell you that more than 
you know — more, perhaps, than I know — I have 
taken your lesson to heart. 

^When I applied to you for employment I 
came believing what your enemies had said of 
you ; and I came prepared to throw that in your 
face if you had refused me because you had 
heard bad reports of me. I saw that you looked 
me through and through; and I felt that you 
cared only for what your eyes told you. They 
who hated you, because they had found out that 
you had a heavy hand for those w^ho were cruel 
or unjust, had taught me that your home was a 
fit place for a man who has made such a slip as 
I have made.' 

^I saw all of that plainly,'* was the answer, 
^and I saw that beneath it were the possibilities 
of a faithful member of my household.' 



50 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

'Bj degrees I saw that your enemies had lied 
about you. Then surprise changed to admira- 
tion ; and before I knew it I was growing to love 
your home. 

^There was not there one of the things I had 
been taught a home needs. Not one person in it 
who has not the right to leave at any moment. 
Not one tie to fix any one there. Yet each one is 
thoughtful of the comfort of the others. Never 
a cross word or a word of command ; and there is 
no fear there except the fear of failing to please 
you. 

^When I was a boy I used to visit my grand- 
father. Each morning I had to listen to his long 
reading and longer prayers ; but I was comforted 
by thinking about the waffles and maple syrup 
that would follow. I remember that one morn- 
ing he read how the Hebrew servant, when his 
time was up — I mean when his freedom came, 
but loving his master so well that he did not wish 
to leave him — would let his master run an awl 
through his ear and fasten him to a doorpost of 
the house ; and then he was a part of the house- 
hold as long as he lived. If it was the custom 
now I would furnish the ear if you would furnish 
the awl and the doorpost.' 

Then, more seriously, he added : 

^I never before knew what the word home 
meant. I can't expect you to trust me so soon ; 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 51 

but I shall be glad when you can tell me you 
have confidence in me and will let me feel that 
it is my home. I will work hard for this/ 

In the Man's voice and manner there was more 
of the comrade than of the master as he gave 
assurance of how deeply the expression of devo- 
tion had moved him. 

^And now you are part of our home. Its 
honor is yours to protect ; and more, it will pro- 
tect you. Whoever, from this time forward, re- 
flects on you attacks our home. You are not 
built in such a way that you need to take a gross 
insult from any man. But you will have the 
good sense not to proceed to extremities.' 

^You need not fear — if the insult is to me 
alone. If to you or to our home there is likely to 
be an accident that will need hospital treat- 
ment.' 

Well, here w^e are; home at last. I will send 
out a cup of hot milk to you ; for I know that you 
will not leave Don w^hile there is a moist hair on 
him.' 

^Trust me for that ; every hair will be ^^as dry 
as a drunkard's morning throat" before I close 
the stable door.' 

^^Unto whom much is forgiven, the same lov- 
eth much," — and long and faithfully — if the hand 
of him who forgives has iron under the velvet. 



52 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 



VI. 



Most cordial was the clergyman's welcome* 
All his experience assured him that the coming 
again of the truth-seeker could have but one mo- 
tive — the admission of the truth of the accepted 
Christian theology. 

But in the full light of his study as the two 
men faced each other there Avas an ominous 
hardness in the visitor's face. With sorrow I 
observe that you are not at peace.' 

And the Man answered : ^And why peace? Did 
not He say: "I come not to bring peace, but a 
sword?" Over your door I saw no warning leg- 
end : ^^Who enters here leaves peace behind ;" but 
here I left the peace that was like a child's trust, 
and I have not regained it nor found its sem- 
blance in the line of study that you marked out 
for me, though I have faithfully followed it.' 

The clergyman recognized the challenge and 
mentally girded himself for the struggle. 

^I have studied that man, Saul of Tarsus, as 
I have never searched the life of any other man. 
It is a most absorbing subject.' 

^And you find that he is- — ' 



VAZARETE OR TARSVSf 53 

^The most complex character that I have in- 
vestigated. Unreservedly I concede him to be, 
facile princeps^ the Christian poet of the first 
century. Poet surely, and with all of the ^^divine 
madness'' of the poet. The ^^divine'' in a poetical 
sense. The ^^madness" we will consider in this 
analysis.' As he said this he laid a roll of manu- 
script on the study table. 

^Yet I beg that you will recognize that in this 
attempt to prove that Paul's mind was disor- 
dered, and also in that which I shall say to you 
here to the same effect, my only sentiment is pity 
for his sufferings — which are so apparent. 
Wherever I express contempt or indignation it is 
only nominally directed against him. My con- 
tempt is for those who have refused to recognize 
Paul's incapacity to develop a system of Chris- 
tian theology; who have accepted his vagaries 
as divine truth, and have demanded their general 
acceptance. It is against these alone that I 
make my complaint. For I recognize in him 
an earnest seeker after righteousness. Nay, 
more; he highly attained to righteousness; for 
his innate revulsion to that which was unright- 
eous was an integral part of his nature. Yet 
he seems to me to have been saturated with an 
intense egotism that gave its color to his beliefs 
and utterances.' 

^But surely if you concede his innate love of 



54 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

righteousness you cannot but admit his fitness 
to be a teacher of divine truth?' 

^A teacher — no. A preacher — a most elo- 
quent preacher — yes. There is a vast differ- 
ence between the two. But the innate desire for 
righteousness does not include all that is essen- 
tial to the leading of men into a true faith. 
Teachers most unlike him have been possessed by 
this desire. ^^Would you know/' says Epictetus, 
^^the means to perfection which Socrates fol- 
lowed? They were these: In every single mat- 
ter which came before him he made the rule of 
reason and conscience his one rule to follow." 
So, too, with Mohammed. The unity, spiritual- 
ity, presence and power of God, the necessity of 
righteousness, were truths clear to him.' 

^But surely you would not compare Moham- 
med with St. Paul?' 

^Compare them? Certainly. Attempt to draw 
a parallel? — surely not. That would be mani- 
festly unfair — to Mohammed. He fell before the 
temptations that he, evidently standing alone, 
encountered in his short life. Nay more; he 
encountered those temptations in almost as few 
years as through centuries the church — in its en- 
tirety, with its strength of numbers and organ- 
ization — battled ; and it, too, fell. And both fell 
before the same temptations. His purity of pur- 
pose — whether you call it* divinely implanted or 



Nazareth or TARSusf 55 

only a natural revulsion to the evil about him — 
fell; just as the church at that time had fallen 
before the temptations of self -gratification and 
love of power. And the last of these was doubt- 
less, in both instances, the parent of the other. 
If his self-indulgence was animal it was not less 
debasing than was that form which possessed 
the church. ^^Faith had evaporated in worship 
of images ; still more in discussion of metaphys- 
ical subtleties about God; had given way to a 
worldliness and corruption that could not be 
hidden.'' And the intellectual pride which had 
substituted these metaphysical subtleties for the 
pure faith bequeathed to the simple Galilean 
fisherman was clearly traceable to the malign in- 
fluence of an intellectual pride, which clearly 
had its impulse, at least its excuse, in the scho- 
lastic vanity of Saul of Tarsus ; who held in such 
unmistakable contempt the message given to 
those humble attendants whom our Lord had 
chosen as his apostles. 

^Could there have percolated down to Moham- 
med — rather let us say, if his then pure spirit 
had possessed the opportunity to draw up to it — 
a genuine Christianity ; if, too, the power of evil 
had not taken away Khadijeh, his true wife, his 
consoler in his spiritual despair, his guardian 
against temptation — who can forecast the power 
for good that Mohammed would have wrought 



56 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

in rebuking the debased Cliristianity of his day, 
in ^^provoking" it to resume its apostolic purity?' 

^Do you consider Mohammed equally inspired 
with St. Paul?' the clergyman asked. 

^Why not? St. Paul was always a Pharisee; 
with all of the bad and all of the good qualities 
of the Pharisee. He never abandoned that atti- 
tude. Mohammed heard his call while en- 
gaged in earnest, humble searching after 
God, and he eagerly followed what he believed 
to be the voice of Gabriel. Saul of Tarsus 
was terrorized out of an antagonism to 
the Christ that he was persecuting. Far more 
wonderful miracles than the light that shone at 
noonday and the voice that spoke to him on the 
way to Damascus had attested the divinity of the 
Christ. To these greater miracles he was indif- 
ferent, though doubtless he knew of them. Per- 
sonal fear, the blinded eyes; these overpowered 
him. Yet they had sufficiently their raison d'etre 
in the deliverance of the Damascus believers 
from his persecutions. There was no precedent 
in the acts of our Lord for such methods of 
choosing and dedicating an apostle.' 

^Then you believe that Mohammedanism had 
possibilities that could have developed it into 
being the peer of Christianity in true spiritual- 
ity?' the clergyman asked. 

^Surely not; for it did not possess the ele- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 57 

ments of intellectual strength with which a pure 
spirituality must be allied; for there were in- 
herent weaknesses that made impossible even the 
maintaining of the wonderful intellectual tri- 
umphs of the Moslems in the Middle Ages. But 
its fatal weakness is that in it there is no place 
for the Divine love. It taught only God's sov- 
ereignty. 

^In missing the love of God it failed to attain 
to that which is the only foundation of pure al- 
truism, on which alone must rest a true spirit- 
uality — as well as a progressive civilization — 
and no other can be abiding, 

^And yet how beautiful was the calling of 
Mohammed. ^Thou art the messenger of God, 
and I am Gabriel." Such was the message that 
he believed had come to him. 

^Disappointments, mockery, insults, persecu- 
tions were given to him in as full measure as to 
Paul; but unflinchingly he bore them; and his 
faith failed not. 

^We admire PauPs attacking the worship of 
Diana in Ephesus. Mohammed's motive and ex- 
periences in Mecca were almost parallel. 

^The appeal of his hunted followers is as beau- 
tiful as if from the lips of Christian devotees: 
"Oh, King, we lived in ignorance, idolatry and 
unchastity; the strong oppressed the weak; we 
spoke untruth; we violated the laws of hospi- 



58 NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 

tality. Then a prophet arose, one whom we 
knew from our youth; with whose conduct and 
good faith and morality we were well acquainted. 
He taught us to worship one God, to speak truth, 
to keep good faith, to assist our relations, to 
fulfill the rites of hospitality, and to abstain 
from all things impure, ungodly, unrighteous. 
We believed him, and followed him. 

' ^^But our countrymen persecuted and tortured 
us, and tried to cause us to forsake our religion. 
And now we throw ourselves upon thy protec- 
tion. Wilt not thou protect us?'' Then one of 
them recited a part of the Koran that spoke of 
Christ; and the king and the Christian bishops 
wept upon their beards. And the king dis- 
missed the Ambassador of the Koreysh, and 
would not give up the refugees. Thereupon per- 
secution waxed hotter in Mecca; and Moham- 
med answered it with : "While God commands 
me, I will not renounce my purpose.'' ^ 

^But you admit that St. Paul was possessed 
by a real love of righteousness. The fruit of 
that must be a noble exemplification of the moral 
law; and if he was filled with revulsion to the 
Law, because it had failed to establish the 
moral precepts, then the general influence of 
his teachings must be to establish moral con- 
ditions — even if sometimes he is led away, by 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 59 

his intensity, into hyperbole and poetical exag- 
geration.' 

To this the Man replied: ^Any really great 
leader must be the master of himself; and noth- 
ing could be more confusing, in our attempts to 
establish the moral responsibility of each indi- 
vidual, than is Paul's statement that he was pos- 
sessed by an influence, independent of himself, 
that impelled him to do wrong contrary to his 
intent.* 

^Hence if we were to allow, generally, this 
shifting of moral responsibility — through the at- 
tributing the culpability for sin to an external 
power, either personal or impersonal ; which was 
not simply an influence, but an irresistibly im- 
pelling power — we should lower moral stand- 
ards through weakening of individual responsi- 
bility. 

^Thus PauPs influence did not make for moral 
conditions. PauPs influence was certainly bad in 
this respect. I do not forget that elsewhere — 
indeed almost immediately — Paul takes an en- 
tirely contradictory attitude; but this is an- 
other instance of that vacillation which adds to 
our confusion; and adds to our distrust of the 
man, of his doctrines, and of the validity of his 

* Rom. vii. i : *' So it is no more I that do it (evil),, but sin 
that dwelleth in me." Rom. vii. 25 : "So then 1 myself with 
the mind serve the law of God, but with the flesh the law of 
sin." 



60 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

claims to inspiration. Paul may have caused — 
surely furnished the palliation of — the Mani- 
chsean tenet of inherent evil in the flesh. In our 
estimate of what constitutes moral reponsibility 
nothing could be more confusing than are these 
statements of Paul. 

Tlato was not only nearer right, but he was 
clearer and more convincing in his strong, incis- 
ive reasoning — so sharply contrasting with 
PauFs vacillation, and v/ith his impulsive, emo- 
tional utterances. ^^God is not the author of evil. 
Moral evil is the result of the abuse of free agen- 
cy, and God stands justified in creating beings 
liable to both;'' i.e.^ liable to exposure to good 
and evil.^ 

^Then you do not believe in an actual personal 
devil?' the clergyman asked. 

^Most assuredly I do. Else I could not justify 
my belief in the Gospel according to St. John. 

^Through a form of what might be called Spir- 
itualism I have been forced to one of two conclu- 
sions. First, that I — in common with every 
friend who has co-operated with me in my inves- 
tigations — am possessed of an eidolon, or daemon, 
its existence wholly unsuspected till sought and 
questioned ; which is coarse, lying, profane, fond 
of giving pain through false statements ; more- 
over, it can use our muscles as it wills, and this 
control is without the consciousness of that part 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 61 

of our intelligence which we call our minds. Or 
else I must believe that there are actually lost 
spirits which come and tell of intimacy with and 
submission to the devil. I was obliged to end 
my investigations because they were evidently so 
unwelcome that they provoked only profane and 
abusive manifestations. Of this alone I am sure : 
that spiritualism is simply a revelation of that 
which is wholly bad within us or external to us ; 
and surely I wish to believe that there is a 
devil and his angels^ rather than to think that 
the coarseness, maliciousness and profanity 
which were invariably expressed, were not the 
outward and visible sign of a debased inward 
spirit, which was an inherent part of the mind 
and soul of my friends and of myself. I regret 
that I could not investigate further, and yet I 
can conceive of no scientific test that could have 
been applied to demonstrate either theory. Yet 
I shall never forget the expressions of self-con- 
tempt for life misspent on earth, whatever their 
source may have been. Hence I do not challenge 
Paul's statement that he was attacked by a 
power wholly external to himself. 

^But it is incredible that this malign power 
could enter and dominate a soul that, as Paul 
claims, had been consecrated by a divine call to 
apostleship and by a special revelation of the 
Christ will and teachings, and yet these divinely 



63 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

endowed influences be so powerless to resist the 
demon that they succumbed and left Paul a pris- 
oner in the hands of the power of evil. 

^One or the other of these statements is un- 
true ; yet presenting an incongruity that is thor- 
oughly Pauline. I do not forget Judas; but he 
voluntarily entertained the tempter. 

^But to return to Paul. Thoroughly arbitrary 
are his assumptions in regard to the relations of 
free will to God. Is what men do the result of 
their own choice or is it determined for them, 
and if the latter, how can they justly be pun- 
ished? (Rom. iii. 5; ix, 19.) The answer is given 
in the form of an antinomy, of which the thesis 
is the sovereignty of God and the antithesis the 
responsibility of men. He states that the sov- 
ereignty of God is absolute; that God has no 
moral obligation to men; there is no qualifica- 
tion of God's power, no moral rights of men. He 
quotes the Law and the prophets to show that 
only a remnant, an elect remnant, of Israel 
would be saved; and that all others should be 
blinded. But when he finds himself involved by 
the statement that God has blinded and repro- 
bated other men so that they shall not reach this 
blessing, Paul can escape only by the arbitrary 
and literal use of the poetical imagery of Jere- 
miah and of the son of Sirach : the figure of the 
clay and the potter. ^^He hath mercy on whom 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 63 

he will, and whom he will he hardeneth" (Rom. 
ix. 18-23). The ^^^essels of wrath fitted unto de- 
struction"; ^^vessels of mercy prepared unto 
glory." Yet elsewhere Paul attempts to vindi- 
cate God by attributing to man an entire respon- 
sibility, but makes no attempt to reconcile the 
conflicting theories. He further defines God's 
plan of bringing the knov^^ledge of salvation to 
the Gentiles as including the purpose thus to 
^^provoke to jealousy" the Jews, and that the 
Gentiles ^^now have obtained mercy" by the dis- 
obedience of the Jews; ^^even so have these also 
now been disobedient, that by the mercy shown to 
you they also may now obtain mercy." The 
crowning absurdity of these utterances is (Rom. 
X. 32) : ^Tor God hath shut up all unto disobe- 
dience, that he might have mercy upon all." And 
then, in one of those periods of lucidity that 
only emphasize his aberration, in the next two 
verses, Paul says: ^^How unsearchable are his 
judgments, and his ways past tracing out. For 
who hath known the mind of the Lord?" This 
calm, consistent flov/ of thought and language 
is as if another writer had taken up the pen of 
Paul to rebuke him for that looseness and ex- 
travagance of expression which would be blas- 
phemy from one who was sane. 

^Most repugnant — and in no way authorized 
by the words of our Lord — are Paul's statements 



64 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

that Christ (Gal. iii. 13) was ^^made a curse for 
us^'; and ^^He made him to be (II. Cor. v. 21) 
sin for us.'' 

^His theology is so different from that of 
John. ^^He was manifested to take (I. John iii. 
56) away our sin. For this purpose the Son 
of God was manifested, that he might destroy 
the works of the devil." In this epistle, as in the 
Fourth Gospel, we see the rejection of Christ ex- 
plained, not as a casual outcome of individual 
caprice or wickedness, but as an inevitable result 
of the eternal antagonism between light and 
darkness. 

Taul further adds to his confusion of doc- 
trine by: ^^But if our Gospel is veiled . . . 
the god of this world hath blinded the minds of 
unbelievers'' (II. Cor. iv. 4). Yet he has re- 
peatedly stated that God is the cause of this 
blindness. 

^Here, as frequently elsewhere, he furnishes to 
modern Unitarianism and (I. Cor. xx. 24-28) to 
the heretical sects of the early church, their au- 
thority for believing in the inferiority of the 
Son to the Father. 

^(I. Cor. XV. 29.) He does not rebuke, but re- 
cords with seeming approval the baptizing of the 
living for the dead. How can we condemn the 
doctrine of purgatory and the saying of masses 
for the dead so long as we make no protest 
■against these words of Paul? 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSt 65 

^(Eph. i. 20.) Here, as elsewhere, he states 
that the Father raised Christ from the dead. 
That is, that Christ did not rise by his own inher- 
ent power; and then clearly implies that the 
power which Christ subsequently held was not 
previously existent, as power co-equal with that 
of the Father, but a lesser poAver, and that it was 
not bestowed in its fullness till after the ascent 
to heaven. 

^What matters it that these assumed limi- 
tations of our Lord are directly opposed to His 
positive and repeated claims to co-equal power — 
claims that include the asserting of a power over 
life (John x. 18), that is equal to the power 
which the Father possesses. Theology demands 
that the dicta of Paul be unquestioned. 

^(I. Cor, viii. 6.) ^^The Father of whom are 
all things and Jesus Christ through whom are 
all things,'' is like the Logos of Plato. That 
Paul does not refer to the Johannean Logos was 
perhaps because he was imbued with the theory 
of Philo: for Paul refers (Col. iii. 16) to the 
spirit of Christ, in terms so like the conceptions 
of Philo and so unlike the Johannean conception, 
that the omission suggests the question whether 
his antagonism to the apostles made him ready 
to accept, or was caused by, his Platonic views 
on this important doctrine.' 



66 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 



VII. 



In support of his criticism the Man quoted: 
"Who can measure the evil that came from 
Paul's practical denial of the true Logos? That 
he still held to his Jewish theological ideas is 
shown by his urging the universality of death as 
proof of universality of sin, ^for it was a fixed 
Jewish belief that God created all men to be 
immortal.' Yet that all men died Paul claimed 
was evidence that all men had sinned. But he 
gives no explanation of how he deduces this, or 
how revealed to him. He states that sin is uni- 
versal, and that it is so inevitably. He attempts 
to prove this by stating that sin is inseparable 
from human nature, but gives no evidence to sup- 
port the statement that mankind as a race was 
involved in the sin of Adam (Rom. v. 12-19; 
I. Cor. XV. 21, 22). Through the one man's dis- 
obedience the many were made sinners (Rom. v, 
19), is an alternative expression with ^through 
the trespass of one the many died' (Rom. v. 15). 
But as to the mode in which the ^trespass' or ^dis- 
obedience' of Adam affected the whole human 
race, no information is given, and it has puzzled 
Christian theology for centuries.'' 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS t 67 

^Taul favors the theory of sin being inherent, 
or has obtained a permanent lodgment — as it 
suits him for the moment.'' 

^TanPs theology has two elements, the logical 
and the mystical, which are seldom wholly sep- 
arated from each other, and it is these elements 
that have permitted his ideas to be so readily 
modified or construed or combined as to form 
the foundation of varied systems of theology; 
for PauFs variety and complexity of expression, 
his varying metaphors permit such varied con- 
struction that they are readily adaptable to any 
interpretation in favor of which the student is 
prepossessed.'' 

^^So, too, the liberty that Paul takes, in di- 
rectly opposed statements, as Phil. iii. 6, 'r right- 
eousness that is in the law,' and Gal. ii. 16, ^By 
the works of the law shall no flesh be justified.' " 

^^So, also, the reasons for the giving of the 
law, when — as he asserts— it was destined to 
failure.* These passages allow the conclusion 
that the law was promulgated to make the sinful- 
ness of sin more apparent; or they may be con- 
strued to mean to make sin more heinous, though 
in no way restraining it. Preconceived ideas 
and temperament of the student leading to 
either — or any intermediate — conclusion." 

* Gal. iii. 19; Rom. iii. 20; v. 20, and vii. 13; I. Cor. xv. 56. 



68 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

"Again his complexity of ideas, in his concep- 
tion of Christ's mission, is so involved that no 
consistent reasoner can be guided by them.* 

"Equally involved and comjjlex — though 
naturally less contradictory — are PauPs descrip- 
tions of the changes in man through the power 
of Christ;^ 

^Noble are his exalted ideas and his descrip- 
tions of faith; but these are no indications that 
he had received a special revelation of the office 
of Christ; and furnish no justification for ac- 
cepting, as a teacher of doctrine, a man whose 
poetic enthrallment leads him to use any terms 
that serve the moment; terms that illustrate or 
vivify the emotion — not conviction — that ab- 
sorbs him; till a new impulse leads him to an- 
other flight of sentiment. 

^His intense love of polemics, his intellectual 
pride, were constantly leading him away from 
his really dominant conviction, that righteous- 
ness, "a conscience void of offense towards God 

*As Sacrifice, I. Cor. v. 7; Rom. v. 25. (i) Reconciliation, 
Rom. V. TO, 11; II. Cor. v. 18, 19. (2) Saved from the wrath 
of God, Rom. i. 16 and v. 9; Rom. iii. 24; I. Cor, i, 30; Eph. i. 
7; Col. i. 14, (3) Language of purchase of a slave, I. Cor. vi. 
20 and vii. 23, Free from bondage to the lav/, Gah iv. 5, 
^4) Bondage to the elements of the universe or material things. 
Gal. iv. 3, 9; Col, ii. 15. (5) To the varied ideas of 'acquittal.' 
not justification by God's favor, Rom. iii, 24; by Blood of 
Christ, Rom. v. 9; Gal. ii. 17; by Faith, Rom. xi. 28 and v. i; 
Gal, xii. 8, 24. Mystical union of Christ and men, so that they 
died with him and rose with him, Rom. vi. 3-10; Gal. ii. 20; 
Eph, ii, 5, 6; Col. ii. 12. 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 69 

and man/' is the basis of a true religious life; 
led him into wild vagaries and illogical reason- 
ings, which have furnished the pretext for count- 
less errors in belief.' 

From the Pauline quiver the clergyman drew 
another shaft. 

^You have admitted the beauty of St. PauPs 
poetic conceptions. But more than poetical 
imagery is his demonstration of (Gal. iv.) the 
glorious freedom of the Christian under the 
gospel and of the Hebrew bondage under the law ; 
using as illustration Isaac, the son of the free- 
woman, and Ishmael, the son of the bondwoman. 
Clearly — except to those w^ho are unwilling to 
be convinced — he demonstrates that the lower 
plane of genesis of the law must be followed by 
failure to attain to other than bondage, because 
it was of that which the bondwoman w^as a fit- 
ting type; while freedom waited on the later 
birth that came of the liberty in Christ Jesus 
which the freewoman represented.^ 

And the Man answered : 

^Let me complete Paul's illustration, "Now 
this Hagar, is Mount Sinai." But it was on 
Mount Sinai that the commandments v/ere di- 
vinely delivered w^hich included "Honor thy 
father and thy mother." Surely that which Paul 
denounced as the bondage of the law ought not 



70 NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 

to be the system of ethics which God gave on 
Siani, and which our Lord sanctioned so clearly. 
That which oppressed Paul was — or ought to 
have been — the accretions of tradition. But 
why did not Paul denounce these? Why did he 
not join our Lord in His denouncing the tradi- 
tions of which the brutality of the immunity 
from filial obligation in ^^Corban'' was the na- 
tural result? 

Taul was so steeped in Pharisaical perver- 
sity that he could not dissociate all that was ethi- 
cal and humane in the law as divinely given, from 
the perversions which had been made by those 
whose works of the law had been instituted 
solely to foster their pride of exclusiveness and 
to display their supercilious sense of spiritual 
superiority. 

^Hence his figure was poetical — and only that ; 
in no sense an apt illustration. 

^But if you insist on taking Paul seriously 
in his reasoning from those premises, I must 
ask you to regard first its inconsistency, and 
secondly its consequences. 

^The reasoning is illogical, for to Isaac's pos- 
terity — the descendants of the freewoman — was 
given the law that was to put them — not the 
children of Ishmael — in bondage. The latter 
were to be free from the condemnation of sin, 
because Paul had established — to his own satis- 



NAZARET.H OR TARSUSf 71 

faction at least — that only by the knowledge of 
the law could sin be imputed. 

^But I have dwelt so much on PauPs inabil- 
ity to reason logically that I will not continue 
this topiCj but pass to the consideration of that 
which is of far graver moment than were his 
futile attempts at logical demonstration ; namely, 
the consequences of his misdirected reasoning. 

^Already I have called your attention to Paul's 
habit of introspection, and to his consequent 
viewing through the refracting media of his own 
convictions the presumed motives and methods 
of reasoning of those to whom he appealed. 

^Unfortunately for PauPs thesis of bondage 
under the law, and of glorious freedom under the 
gospel, the consequence was drawn by the Greek 
and Grecized converts that the immunity from 
temptations — to which the law alone had given 
rise and power, and had made sinful the yield- 
ing to — had been so established by dying to the 
law, and being a new creature in Christ Jesus, 
that sense could no longer wield a seductive 
power.' 

* ^^The shock to Paul when he learned of the 
dreadful immoralities practiced in his cherished 
church at Corinth must have been a terrible one. 
Thenceforth it ought to have been clear to him, 
as probably it was to unimpassioned on-lookers, 

* J, Warschauer in "New World." 



72 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

that faith conferred no immunity from vices of 
the grossest description; nay, more, that the 
fatal doctrine of the abrogation of the moral 
law was bound to lead to the most sinister conse- 
quences, and would actually be taken as an en- 
couragement to every kind of license. In vain 
the apostle ^writhed and twisted' to escape the 
difficulty he had himself created; in vain did 
he reason that faith, emancipation from the law, 
not only produced, but ivas^ a state of emancipa- 
tion from sin, and that they in whose members 
sin still bore dominion had not real faith. - Who 
was to gainsay the fervid self-assurance of any 
one who chose to protest his faith, together with 
his conviction that he was superior to the restric- 
tions of the law? Had not Paul himself plainly 
hinted that sin is not imputed where there is no 
law (Rom. v. 13), and that he himself %ad not 
known sin, except through the law' (Rom. vii. 
7) ? He might lay down, as indeed he did, the 
most explicit ethical injunctions, commending 
a godly, righteous and sober life; but what 
more natural than that his hearers preferred the 
part of his teaching v/hich deprecated righteous- 
ness by works and described the law as the 
strength of sin? 

^^The Corinthian scandals were only the fitting 
prelude to a series of phenomena which, through 
the whole history of Christianity, never failed 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 73 

to manifest themselves where the Pauline doc- 
trine obtained a serious hold. *^A hideous shad- 
ow of antinomianism has dogged it throughout 
all time. It was manifest in the immoral sects 
of the apostolic period; ... it lingered on 
through the Middle Ages; it burst into febrile 
heat at the Eeformation among the Anabaptists 
of Munster, and the Adamites and other obscene 
sects^ and all these appealed to the argument of 
Paul and away from his injunctions.^ In the 
canon itself we are told of some w^ho wrested the 
teachings of Paul ^to their own destruction' (II. 
Pet. iii. 16) ; of some who turned ^the grace of 
God into lasciviousness' ( Jude 4) ; of a proph- 
etess who taught believers ^to commit fornica- 
tion and eat things sacrificed unto idols' (Rev. 
ii. 20).' 

^^Must we not read these passages in the light 
of Paul's own sorrowful admission (I. Cor. v. 
1), that there reigned in that church such im- 
morality as was not even among the Gentiles. 
The charges of shameless debauchery constantly 
made against the early church — and occasion- 
ally admitted by writers like pseudo-Clement, 
Tertullian, and Irenseus — all point equally to 
the widespread mischief wrought by the doc- 
trine of justification by faith; and well might 
the writer whom we have been quoting observe : 

* Baring-Gould, "Study of St. Paul." 



74 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

^The church trembled on the verge of becoming 
an immoral sect. It teas high time that the gos- 
pels should appear, and show that Christ had 
given His sanction to the moral law; nay, had 
extended its application/ '' 

^Yet all the more willingly/ the Man added, 
^I pay heartfelt tribute to Paul's attempts to 
free himself from these sad complications. 
^TauFs faith that w^orketh through love" is the 
perfect definition of exalted Christian character. 
Still, if his dying with Christ to the law of the 
flesh, to live with Christ to the law of the mind, 
is regarded as other than poetical — is taken liter- 
ally, and not as dying to sin in absorbing love to 
Christ — we make Him anthropomorphic, and lay 
the foundation for misconceptions. For it is 
impossible to accept PauFs thesis of divinity 
dying to sin.' 

Then you practically deny that Paul was 
divinely called to apostleship,' the clergyman 
said. 

^Not quite so strongly as that; for the evi- 
dence is only negative. ^^Not proven," I would 
say, since the evidence is not consistent with it- 
self in its various and differing repetitions. 
Especially questionable is his last account of 
it ; for there he attributes to our Lord language 
and methods of thought which are so unmistak- 
ably Pauline that they establish a profound dis- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 75 

trust of the accuracy of this account ; moreover, 
it is unlike the previous accounts — and these do 
not agree with each other. 

^Again : it was inconsistent with the words^f 
our Lord ; inconsistent too with the tenor of His 
life — if I rightly understand them — that He 
should have chosen such a man as Saul of Tar- 
sus to be the chief apostle. 

^To me there is nothing more pathetically ap- 
pealing in His history than His washing of the 
disciples' feet; and also His appeal not to put 
the new wine of His revelations of divine love 
into the old wine skins of rabbinical theology. 
He doubtless foresaw that pride of povN^er and 
intellectual vanity w^ould be the rocks on which 
his church would be wrecked. 

Towerless to avert this He doubtless saw He 
would be ; opposed, as he recognized that he was, 
by the malign influence of him w^hose ^^kingdom 
is . . . of this world" ; while His calm en- 
durance of that humiliating powerlessness can- 
not but inspire a loftier regard for the loveliness 
of the divine motive that accepted this added 
humiliation. 

^But Saul of Tarsus was foremost in this con- 
fining of the new Christ wine in the old Hebrew 
theological wine skins. And they burst, as the 
Lord foretold : and all through the pages of the 



76 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

history of the church the splashes fell. There 
they have left their red stains: and we call one 
^^St. Bartholomew's night/' one "the reign of 
Bloody Mary/' and so on.^ 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS r ^rf 



VIII. 

^BuT in making this charge you forget how 
zealous St. Paul was that the Law, at once and 
with no reservation, should be superseded by the 
faith in Christ. He was insistent that the Law 
had been tried and had been found powerless to 
establish a true religious life/ the clergyman 
interposed. 

^No, I do not forget, but here again I appeal 
for faith in a consistent Christ, as against credu- 
lity in an impetuous and inconsistent Paul. 
Where has our Lord left any evidence that He 
wished that the Mosaic law should be abruptly 
abrogated? Almost His last act before His 
death was the observance of the Passover. And 
although it was instituted as a type of Himself, it 
would have been natural that He should have 
wholly substituted for it the Last Supper — if He 
had desired that at once the law should be made 
a nullity. 

^But we have the direct testimony of our 
Lord : ^^The scribes and the Pharisees sit in 
Moses' seat : all things whatsoever they bid you 



78 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

these do and observe'' ; and jou know that this is 
by no means the only positive utterance of our 
Lord which Paul acted contrary to when he 
made such violent attacks on the law. The para- 
ble of the tares and the wheat — the danger of 
violently uprooting the tares — would seem to re- 
fer to the peril of making attacks on the law; 
if we construe ^^the tares" to mean the unauthor- 
ized accretions of tradition. 

^But to go back to the figure of the wine skins 
of Hebrew theology ; into which Paul proposed to 
force the untheological message of our Lord. 

^Why does the Church pretend to be blind, for 
really blind it cannot be, to the coarse material- 
ism of the rabbinical theology which possessed 
Paul and which he has infused into the Christian 
faith? 

^Rabbinical theology had lost, if it ever really 
possessed, a real knowledge of the essential spirit 
of sacrifice. The giving up of the best that we 
possess ; the rendering back to God of the life that 
vivified it, in token of our recognition that all we 
have is from His hand : this true inward dedica- 
tion Paul could not comprehend ; and so he could 
only teach an asserted potency in the material 
sacrifice ; in the actual shedding of blood. That 
this erroneous sacrificial spirit possessed him, 
that there was no recognition by Paul of the spir- 
itual devotion of a true sacrificial motive, are evi- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 79 

denced by his making no allusion to that most 
beautiful and impressive instance of absorbing 
self-renunciation that the Old Testament records. 

^But in Abraham's sacrifice of his only son 
there was none of that actual outpouring of blood 
which Paul demanded in the idea of completed 
sacrifice. Paul's silence in this is all the more 
startling, when we recall that the author of the 
Epistle to the Hebrews refers to it. 

^Nor could Paul recognize the spiritual figure 
of that other impressive form of sacrifice, in 
which the scapegoat was driven out into the wil- 
derness : a type so suggestive of our Lord's being 
driven out into the wilderness to combat with the 
power of darkness, that we can well believe it was 
thus foreshadowed. His omission of reference to 
the smiting of the rock in the wilderness is also 
suggestive. Here were symbols so striking, so 
full of poetical analogy that, it would seem as if 
Paul's highly poetical spirit could not fail to rec- 
ognize the beauty and appropriateness of the 
similitudes. 

^Yet if one is a careful student of Paul he can- 
not fail to find in Paul's blood blindness to any 
sacrifice which was not material, the reason of his 
blindness to the impressive appositeness of 
these types. That in sacrifice there appealed to 
Paul only what the ^^outward man" could recog- 
nize ought to be almost conclusive evidence that 



80 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

his inspiration existed only in his own imagina- 
tion. 

^It is Paul's coarse view of sacrifice which has 
degraded the theology of the church; that has 
doubtless laid the foundation of much of its ter- 
rible cruelties, through its imputing to the 
Father a satisfaction in the shedding of the blood 
of his divine Son.' 

^But St. Paul recognizes the need, the trans- 
forming powder of a true sacrificial spirit, when 
he exhorts us to present our bodies a living sac- 
rifice,' the clergyman suggested. 

^I admit that he presents this most beautifully 
and appealingly — as a preacher. But as a theo- 
logian, as a teacher of the relations of the divine 
to the human, he is not able to comprehend a 
true sacrificial spirit, because he possesses no de- 
gree of inspiration to incite him to rise above his 
rabbinical education. 

^Do not think me insensible to the beauty and 
sincerity of Paul's appeals for Christlikeness, 
for self-consecration, for identification with 
Christ through dying with Him. Let me forget 
his intrusive personality, and no one more than 
I will praise the lofty sentiments that he gave 
expression to in his best moments. 

^You will comprehend me when I characterize 
St. Paul as intensely fond of color. In his bril' 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 81 

liant thought painting he was an impressionist. 
His artistic sense was so dominating that it im- 
pelled him to vivify his theme through every 
tint that he could employ. He delighted in the 
varying shades that each color afforded. A strik- 
ing illustration of this we find at the close of the 
first chapter of Romans; the latter part of the 
fifth chapter of Galatians is yet another. Yet 
his artistic taste was so pure that his brilliancy 
never approached bizarre effects. But to expect 
accurate drawing, a true sense of proportion, cor- 
rect perspective, would be unnatural : and most 
of all would we be disappointed if we looked for 
historical accuracy. 

Tor he v/ho would enter into judgment on 
St. Paul, and yet cannot enter into St. Paul's 
artistic heart and view his glowing pictures 
from that coign of vantage, in earnest sympathy 
with his esthetic emotions, must do St. Paul 
a grave injustice; and — more gravely important 
— will lose the rapport through which will be 
illuminated for him St. PauFs limitations. 

^And yet, over against this idealizing imag- 
ination, we find its unexpected antithesis in 
the hard, unyielding literalness — the fruitage 
of his rabbinical education. While that literal- 
ness is not the resultant of scientific analysis, 
but is the product of his intense introspection, 
yet it is all the more dangerous — and all the 



82 NAZARETH OR TARSUS r 

more tenaciously held then as now — because it 
is a moss-grown error that demands reverence 
for its antiquity. 

^It is just here that we find the overpowering 
influence of his false education. 

^In spite of his true poetic instincts, in the 
face of a really earnest desire to reform his the- 
ological vievv^s into the mold of Christ revela- 
tion, they had ceased to be plastic; and so his 
subsequent convictions must be bent, — no matter 
with what violence and unnaturalness, — to meet 
the conformations of his old rabbinical theology. 
This is strikingly evident in his treatment of 
the Jewish scriptures, when cited for the pur- 
pose of illustration. 

^We would expect that his own strong poetic 
instincts would recognize and intensify the po- 
etic idealism of their thought. Instead of that, 
he invests them with a cold, hard realism w^hich 
our judgment tells us is utterly foreign to the 
true poetic sentiment of those who uttered them 
in the groping after truth in the early dawn. 

^But to view it scientifically, why should we 
expect that any naturalness would result from 
such a conversion as was his? It saved the 
church at Damascus from persecution, it filled 
Paul with terror : but it appealed neither to his 
intellect nor to his heart.^ 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 83 

The clergyman made no direct reply, but said : 

^Then you regard St. Paul as adding nothing 
to the power and evidences of Christianity?' 

^To the evidences — most assuredly. Even the 
materialness of Paul's conception of the res- 
urrection of our Lord has historical value. That 
a man so thoroughly a Pharisee; contemptuous 
of the chosen of our Lord; absorbed in admira- 
tion of his own intellectuality; his thoughts so 
self-centered that they admitted nothing from 
without unless irresistibly forced upon his rec- 
ognition; that such a man was compelled to ac- 
knov>^ledge the divinity of our Lord makes him 
a most valuable witness to the validity of the 
claims of the founder of Christianity: a wit- 
ness all the more convincing because his whole 
mind and soul rebelled against surrendering 
to the conviction to which he gave expression. 

^I conceive that the constant struggling of this 
revulsion was the cause of "what I would not 
that I do/' which brought to him the depressing 
feeling that his assertive individuality was dom- 
inated and that he was only an impassive bat- 
tleground on which two opposing forces — wholly 
outside of himself — were contending. It would 
be a charitable view of Paul's idiosyncrasies, 
and perhaps as just as it is charitable, to con- 
sider his contradictions — both those of doctrine 
and of sentiment — to be the revulsion of his in- 



84 VAZ ARETE OR TARSUS f 

dividuality against his powerlessness to rid 
himself from the subjugating influences of his 
new belief. This revulsion doubtless had its 
origin in the intellectual vanity that refracted 
all external evidence out of its natural plane, 
and so made his thought morbid. 

^Thus the key to Paul's abnormal mental con- 
dition may be indicated in his humiliating admis- 
sion that he was possessed by uncontrollable im- 
pulses. His standard was noble, but his im- 
pulses dominated him, and he was swayed by his 
self-centered thoughts which were the results of 
his intense conviction of his own importance. In 
Phariseeism this conviction found congenial 
exercise; the passivity of self-renunciation in 
Christ was wholly foreign to his nature. 

^It was Christ's sinlessness that found in Paul's 
love of righteousness the interpreter to him of 
Christ's divinity; but no such conviction could 
have come to Paul through that which was ex- 
ternal to himself. So his conversion was through 
that which was purely personal to himself. 

^Hence, too, the law of sin in his members — 
through his intense self-absorption — made sin 
seem universal to him ; and thus the doctrine of 
original sin was for him a natural evolution. 

^Again : while he was ready to yield to super- 
natural influences that appealed primarily to his 
own mind (Acts xxi. 4), he readily disregarded 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 85 

whatever other minds presented as revelation. 
He was one of those men who are so convinced 
that they are children of destiny, so self-assured 
that they are born to preponderate and to domi- 
nate, that tolerance of the opinion of others is 
impossible to them. 

^Such a mind cannot be consistent even with 
itself. Consequently the impulse of the moment 
led Paul — led him to establish his theses by half 
truths and by illustrations that were not even 
consistent with his own previous utterances. 

haul's utter disregard for consistency is 
evidence of his unbalanced mind. He advanced 
the thesis of the saving grace being extended to 
only a few elect; led up to it through a course 
of false reasoning, which no clear intellect would 
sanction. But when a different mood possesses 
him he clearly states that, ^^vrhosoever shall call 
on the name of the Lord shall be saved,'' and, 
^^God is the Savior of all men, especially of those 
that believe.'' It is needless to point out that 
every shade of belief, from Calvinism to Uni- 
versalism, can find its vindication in such con- 
tradictory statements of doctrine.' 

Here the clergyman suggested that every 
great leader in thought, v/ho has commanded 
the homage of men, has been invested with a 
strong personality which arrested attention, yet 
could not have retained it unless he was actu- 



86 NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 

ated by sincere motive in delivering his message, 
and asked: 

^How, then, do you account for the perma- 
nency of St. Paul's power if you deny his in- 
spiration?' 

To this the Man replied : 

'I think that opportunity had much to do 
with this, for I cannot concede that St. Paul pos- 
sessed an attractive personality — except so far 
as an assertive boldness attracts a certain class 
of minds. He was fortunate in his historian; 
fortuitous circumstances, doubtless, contrib- 
uted to the preservation of Paul's writings. 

^The very boldness of Paul's claims to 
special revelations is calculated to carry convic- 
tion. His doctrine of sacrificial atonement; the 
defining of all that made it necessary, all that 
limits its efficacy, all that determines the bounds 
of its manifestations ; these were advanced with 
such positive claims that they were divinely re- 
vealed to him that they commanded belief by 
their boldness. Hence we must regard them as 
blasphemous impositions or else accept them as 
the teachings of one divinely inspired — regard- 
less of the contradictory terms in which they are 
expressed. There is no escape from accepting 
one or the other of these conclusions, except by 
demonstrating that Paul was mentally irre- 
sponsible. 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 87 

^He had few of the elements of a noble char- 
acter. Courage can hardly be attributed to an 
apostle who ten times fled from danger. Con- 
sistency and courage both were absent when, in 
the face of his contempt for the law, he shifted 
his principles in his last visit to Jerusalem, 
boasting that he was a Pharisee and the son of a 
Pharisee, and readily accepting the suggestion 
that he show that ^^thou also walkest orderly and 
keepest the law.'' Thus principle was laid aside 
for caution — that was too tardy to secure safety. 

^And while he could rebuke Peter unstintedly 
for showing consideration for the commands of 
the law, Paul did not hesitate to circumcise Tim- 
othy, that he might win the favor of Judean 
Christians; although he said (Gal. v. 2), ^^Be- 
hold I, Paul, say unto you that if you receive 
circumcision, Christ will profit you nothing.'' 
and he performed vicarious vows to conciliate 
the unbelieving Jews.' 

Here the clergyman interrupted, saying: 

^Most strenuously I protest against your as- 
sumption that St. Peter was necessarily in the 
right, and that St. Paul alone was to blame. 
That which you are pleased to call St. Paul's 
egotism and self-sufficiency was only his nat- 
ural and just indignation because his work had 
been interfered with by the Judaizers with whom 
Peter appears to have been in sympathy.' In 



8g NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

the silence that followed this protest by the 
clergyman he was sanguine that he had gained 
the advantage. 

At length, slowly and with an effort at self- 
command, the Man resumed: 

^I know that you are conversant with all of 
the conditions of this incident. On the other 
hand, I would not Avish to think that you had in- 
tentionally suppressed any of the related cir- 
cumstances. 

^That all of the elder apostles gave no encour- 
agement to the Judaizers at Antioch but rather 
rebuked them — when Paul and Barnabas went 
up to Jerusalem — is prima facie evidence that 
Paul's complaint was unjust, or that he took an 
exaggerated view of whatever favor Peter may 
have shown to converts from Judaism. 

^But the crux of the whole matter — the cause 
of inevitable antagonism to Peter — would seem 
to be evidenced by PauPs assertion that Peter 
and Barnabas did "not walk uprightly according 
to the gospel.'' 

^Now we know that Paul always meant by 
"gospel" that which he called "my gospel," and 
that he was opposed to what he called "another 
gospel." Surely, "another gospel," from that 
which Paul preached is the gospel which is re- 
vealed by the evangelists. Collision was inevi- 
table between Peter, w^ho bore this gospel, and 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSF 89 

Paul, who boasted of "my gospel and the preach- 
ing of Jesus Christ.'' 

^Now, if it is orthodox to recognize that there 
is only one personage worthy of credence in the 
New Testament, namely, Paul, and only one in 
the Old Testament, Isaiah, then you are doubt- 
less theologically correct. For Paul's "my gos- 
pel" of purchase of divine favor and of the ap- 
peasing of divine wrath by the sacrificial death 
of the Christ had its first intimation in Isaiah — 
and not with him, till the post-exilian period. 

^If Paul was right, then the record of the 
Evangelists was imperfect. If Isaiah was right, 
we ought to relegate the other prophets to an 
obscurity merited by their ignorance. And let 
us eliminate all of the joyous psalms, whose de- 
light in the law of the Lord reflected the almost 
universal Hebrew love for, as well as pride in, 
the law. 

^It is theologically convenient, but it is not 
historical, to attribute to the whole Jewish na- 
tion the morbid view of the law which Paul and 
his sect possessed; and held with it, such con- 
tempt for those who did not share their distorted 
views, that the treatment which Paul received 
at Jerusalem clearly indicates that his carica- 
ture of the law was resented, and that it also 
made him powerless to win any of his nation to 
believe in his caricature of the true gospel. You 



90 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

know that Paul was not representative of the 
Jewish nation^ or of its faith. Kepresentative 
of those who held censorious pride in the tradi* 
tional accretions of the law Paul was — and this 
alone. And who knows but that our Lord had 
prophetically in rnind that Pharisee who guard- 
ed the garments of those who slew His first mar- 
tyr, when he denounced the moral blindness of 
that sect.' 

^With stranfije inconsistency he used the svna- 
gogues of Asia, till he was compelled to go else- 
where, although he claimed precedence as an 
apostle to the Gentiles. 

^I think that we have the key to much that 
otherwise would be obscure in the personality of 
Paul, if we will regard the many evidences of 
how little of affectionate regard he commanded 
(I. Cor. xvi. 17). At Ephesus he did not com- 
mand the affection of the Christian converts ; at 
least his support there — surely to a great de- 
gree — came from without. 

^He lays much stress on his lack of local sup- 
port, and he tries to have this indifference to 
himself regarded as an evidence of his devotion 
to duty. But is it not more natural to regard 
it as evidence that he could not command the 
affectionate regard of the converts? 

^Not till after Titus had done his own mis- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 91 

Bionary work in Corinth was Paul hospitably re- 
ceived (II. Cor. vii. 7). Then, on his third visit, 
he was able to command a hospitable welcome, 
following Titus' preaching. And he emphasizes 
this when he says: ^^This thou knowest (II. Tim. 
i, 15), that all that are in Asia turned away from 
me,'' and (iv. 16 and 10), ^Mt my first defence no 
one took my part ; but all forsook me.'' ^^For De- 
mas hath forsaken me and Crescens and Titus; 
only Luke is with me." And he asks for Mark, 
"for he is profitable unto me." His self-centered 
thought is shown in his phrasing of this last sen- 
tence. 

^His inability to attach to himself faithful as- 
sistants is further shown in Phil. ii. 21: that 
excepting Timotheus and Epaphroditus "all seek 
their own, not the things which are Jesus 
Christ's." And Epaphroditus was "nigh unto 
death," "to supply your lack of service unto me" ; 
yet he Avrites (Phil. iv. 18) of having received at 
the hands of Epaphroditus the gifts of the Phil- 
ippians which were "a sacrifice, acceptable, well 
pleasing to God" (Phil. iv. 10) , but received after 
much delay, and no other church (Phil. iv. 15) 
had given to him "in the beginning of the gos- 
pel." 

' "The success and steadfastness of the Thes- 
salonian church came with the preaching of 
Timothy," whom Paul had sent when he was 



92 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

"Satan hindered'' — a term that his intense con- 
viction of his own importance prompts him to use 
repeatedly. 

^We would have a right to expect that the 
scholarly acquirements which are claimed for 
St. Paul would have wrought some permanent 
results at Athens. Later, Avhen a true scholar- 
ship had added its philosophical appeals, the 
Greek mind elsewhere was attracted to Chris- 
tianitv. But Paul's scholasticism could not 
arouse their interest. 

^If Paul had been divinely inspired he would 
not have held such erroneous views of the near- 
ness of the Parousia, as shown in 1st Thessa- 
lonians ; and wiiich he, or some wiser writer, had 
to correct in the next epistle. 

^As poetical — only imaginative, in no way in- 
spired — can we regard Paul's description of the 
second coming of our Lord, so variously are de- 
scribed the conditions attending that event. 
So, too, after the Advent. The statement, "in 
Christ shall all be made alive,'.' cannot be recon- 
ciled with the "eternal destruction from the face 
of the Lord." And while in places it is taught 
that the destruction will be immediate, it is else- 
where taught by him that our Lord will reign 
as the longed-for Jewish Messiah; and during 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 93 

this reign he would ^^put all enemies under his 
feet.'' 

^His claim to be the apostle to the Gentiles is 
in opposition to St. Peter's statement (Acts xv. 
7), that "si good while ago God made choice 
among us that the Gentiles by my mouth," etc., 
and St. Peter's evidently extended journeyings 
would seem to sustain his claim.' 

Then earnestly the clergyman urged in St. 
Peter's behalf: 

^It occurs to me that you wilfully ignore the 
noble characteristics of St. Paul. Was he not 
heroic? Read the record of his labors and his 
sufferings. He had nothing to gain, but every- 
thing to lose, by his devotion to Christ. Noth- 
ing but a firm faith in the truth he proclaimed 
and an intense love for its founder could have 
inspired and sustained him. Is not this deserv- 
ing of honor? A man who for love of country en- 
dures hardship, suffers loss, and if needful sheds 
his blood on the battle field, would be by you 
deemed worthy of all admiration. Why with- 
hold it from Paul, w^ho, whether mistaken or 
otherwise, did choose to suffer the loss of all 
things for Christ.' 

And the Man replied: 

^I fail to see where your appeal can have much 
force. As I have previously observed, his fre- 
quent avoiding of danger — so strikingly in con- 



94 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

trast to the true courage shown by the apostles 
— and his pusillanimity at Jerusalem, are what 
we have a right to expect from a man who 
through fear was impressed with the power of the 
Christ whom he was persecuting. But we have 
wandered away from our subject, for we are not 
discussing the impulses of a zealot, but the claim 
of Paul that he was the medium of those special 
revelations which have led the church to formu- 
late its doctrines on the supposed sanctity of his 
statements. 

^But before we leave the subject of the per- 
sonality of Paul, let me advance a related prop- 
osition. 

^No religious leader can be thoroughly com- 
prehended — at least his doctrines and his mo- 
tives justly considered — till he reappears, di- 
vested of his own personality, in the persons 
of his disciples. 

^In such relation Luke* stood to his master, 
Paul. He reveals unconsciously, and so all the 
more indisputably, PauPs intense egotism. 

"The very opening of his gospel displays this. 
The vanity of his master is shown in a like fond- 
ness for long and sonorous w^ords.'^ 

^Luke's adopting of Paul's inaccuracy is shown 

* Modern scholarship is not here ignored. Luke is used for 
brevity, in place of repetitions of ' ' the writer of the third gos- 
pel, who appears to have been a disciple of St. Paul." 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 95 

in the parable of the unjust steward; the unjust 
judge; the friend persuaded by importunity; and 
in attributing to our Lord, ^^If any man hate 
not father/' etc. We cannot believe that our 
Lord ever expressed such sentiments. 

^Luke's Pauline contempt for the apostles is 
shown in his attributing to our Lord the calling 
of his apostles ^^unprofitable servants/' who ^^have 
done that which was your duty to do.'' We can- 
not conceive that our Lord used such language, 
unless we eliminate much of St. John's gospel. 

^So, too, the affectionate solicitude for the 
twelve, on their return — as given by Mark — 
Luke associates with the departure and the re- 
turn of the seventy. 

^His omission of other evidences, given by 
Matthew and Mark, of the affection of our Lord 
for the twelve, are additional testimony to his 
inheritance of Paul's antagonism to the twelve. 

^We cannot believe Luke's statement that on 
the very day of His resurrection, our Lord ap- 
plied the epithet ^^O, fools" to the disciples with 
whom he walked and talked — even if we soften 
the term in translation. The time was too solemn 
for such impatience, even if no contempt was 
implied. 

^(Luke xxiii. 24-27.) It is not probable that 
a dispute in regard to superiority — evidently of 
superiority after our Lord should be taken away 



96 NAZARETH OR TARSU»:^f 

— was indulged in by the twelve during the Last 
Supper. ^^AU of his account of the Last Supper 
is meager and disjointed, and some things im- 
probable^ — as the command to buy swords." 

'The parable of the Prodigal Son is unsatis- 
fying, as Luke records it. Beneath that triad of 
the insensate lost silver; of the low intelligence 
of the wandering sheep, for both of which there 
was eager solicitude, though no responsive love 
or effort to return was displayed by them; and 
the highest intelligence of the son, whose full 
knowledge of wrongdoing must prompt the peni- 
tential return, if forgiveness was to be extended ; 
beneath this triad there Avas a deep spiritual 
truth, probably that divine love and justice re- 
gard opportunity. But Luke had not the spir- 
itual insight to perceive the truth which our 
Lord was illustrating, or he would not have ended 
the parable as he did. 

'In marked contrast to this looseness of ex- 
pression, which often approaches indifference 
in Luke's writings, is the absorbing reverence 
which the fourth gospel displays. 

'Its careful details of the inmost thoughts 
of our Lord — so far as the human mind can com- 
prehend the divine — makes most significant the 
omission of all reference to the doctrine of atone- 
ment. "And while the synoptists explain the sac- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 97 

rifice of our Lord as the giving of His life as 
a ransom for many, the fourth gospel presents 
only the metaphor of the Good Shepherd giving 
His life for His sheep, and attempts no solution 
of the mystery/' 

' ^^The intense spirituality of the fourth gospel/' 
"the whole Gospel breathing a supernatural at- 
mosphere/' "its instinctive perception of sym- 
metry in thought and expression/' the tender- 
ness with which it displays the love of our Lord, 
these do not become any less attractive to us 
through doubts of its authorship. It not only 
tells us of Christ, it is Christ. And if its elevated 
spirituality was attained by one who had not 
actually known our Lord, had never been in- 
fluenced by His divine personality, it is all the 
more a tribute to His divinity; all the more an 
evidence of His absorbing love to mankind that 
such rapt devotion, such living in Christ, could 
be possessed by one who never had witnessed 
personally the divine charm of that intense blend- 
ing of the human and the heaven-born love which 
filled the soul of the author of the fourth gospel, 
as it has vivified no other human heart before or 
since. 

^In the message of that gospel I place my hope 
of heaven. 

^It is a noble casket in which are displayed 



98 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

the words which are radiant above all others 
with the love of our Lord. ^^I go to prepare a 
place for you . . . that where I am ye may 
be also.'' 

^Before these words I stand appalled. I can 
express it in no other way. 

^Eternity of loving prevision ; eternity of shar- 
ing a beatitude that can satisfy divinity. Had 
He come on earth and delivered only this mes- 
sage, it would have sufficed for the perfect rev- 
elation of a love that passes human comprehen- 
sion. 

^I would not minimize the faith that the 
Church reposes on Calvary. Yet most emphati- 
cally I would refuse to follow the church's ex- 
ample in its ignoring of the plain doctrinal teach- 
ings of the Spirit, when it led our Lord out to the 
temptations of the wilderness. 

^Some time the church will have the courage 
to accept those teachings of the Spirit— which 
our Lord repeatedly and so plainly emphasized 
— and will relegate the poet Paul, to his own 
sphere of brilliant irresponsibility.' 

Confidently the clergyman demanded : 
^Surely you will not deny that the wonder- 
ful vision of another world that was granted to 
St. Paul was evidence of the divine favor, such 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 99 

evidence as was granted to no other apostle, and 
that it entitles him to reverence. More than 
that, it was confirmation of apostleship so con- 
vincing that it places his divine calling beyond 
question.' 

^Granted to no other apostle/ the Man re- 
plied; ^I admit that. I could almost say that I 
rejoice — for their sakes — that it was not given 
to others. But I do not wish to think you to 
be so ignorant of the history of monasticism that 
you do not know how constantly those zealots 
— underfed with bread and ideas — were seeing 
and hearing "unspeakable things/' which they 
promptly showed to be exceedingly utterable in 
the eagerness with which they published the— 
believed — evidences of the divine favor shown to 
them. Mohammed, equally with Paul, was 
favored with visions. 

^But I am very glad that you introduced this 
event, for I frankly admit that I have not had 
the time to study it as I would wish to do^ and 
most earnestly I beseech you to supplement my 
imperfect knowledge; I will be a most atten- 
tive scholar. 

^It is evident that in its introduction the 
author of the fourth gospel was rebuking a nas- 
cent spirit of Gnosticism. The modern Martin- 
ist system is the offspring of that Gnosticism 



100 NAZARETH OR TAR^USf 

and it teaches that "the Being of Beings, who is 
the sui)reme First Cause, is manifested only by 
his Word, through whom everything was made," 
yet "Satan is the rebellious spirit whose lust for 
personal independence brought about his sepa- 
ration from God.'' Now, we can follow him thus 
far; but when the Martinist adds the claim that 
Satan corresponds to the Word of God, the cre- 
ating thought of God, we must diverge — even 
though our Lord so plainly admits Satan's claim 
to power in this world; and further, by His 
silence, seemed to acquiesce to this claim, when 
Satan offered to confer on Him that power, if 
He would worship him. 

^Now these Martinist views include much that 
was taught in the apocalyptic literature which, 
in the last centuries before Christ, passed under 
the name of Enoch; for Enoch refers to angels 
being cast down from the fifth heaven to the sec- 
ond heaven. 

^It is most significant that in PauPs descrip- 
tion of his vision he claims to have entered the 
third heaven. So, too, Paul speaks of Christ's 
reconciling to himself "the things which are in 
heaven" (Col. i. 20). It does not necessarily 
follow that Paul was imbued with the beliefs of 
the Gnostics, the theories of the secrets of Enoch, 
or that he was in sympathy with those early her- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 101 

esies which have their modern expression in the 
modern Martinist system. Yet it behooves his 
defenders to present some reasonable theory for 
his evident belief in conditions which were essen- 
tial elements in these systems; and which have 
no warrant in the teachings of our Lord. So we 
have a right to ask, Why did Paul assert the 
plurality of heavens, and that in them — at least 
in one of them — were spirits that needed to be 
reconciled to Christ? It is not proven by these 
instances that Paul accepted Plato's and Pin- 
dar's beliefs in the fall of man's soul from the 
Deity, or that the secrets of Enoch colored his 
imagination. Yet it presents a reasonable basis 
on which to begin investigation of his erratic 
theological views.' 

To this inquiry the clergyman replied that he 
was not convinced that the chain of reasoning 
was continuous, and that he would give it further 
thought, adding: 

^Do you wish it to be understood that you re- 
gard as mentally incompetent or intellectually 
dishonest all who hold St. Paul to be an inspired 
man, and his teachings as worthy of accept- 
ance?' 

And the Man replied : 

^I disclaim any such discourteous intent. 
But I do claim that they are not so courageous 
as the issues at stake demand. It is a charac- 



102 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

teristic of fear that it eliminates other motives. 
And worse than that, it persuades its captives to 
dignify it with all sorts of Latin derivatives, 
which represent recognized virtues. You theo- 
logians do not dare to trust the divinely im- 
planted impulses that create the souPs need to 
acquire divine truth. It flatters your sense of 
self-importance to indicate that the only path 
which leads to divine truth passes over tlie arti- 
ficial way which you have elaborated; and that 
this way is a trestle work; and you fear that if 
from this there be taken one brace or chord or 
sill, your complex structure will collapse, and 
the chasm between man and divine truth will 
never be bridged again. 

^But there is no chasm — only the phantasm 
of one, which you have created. 

^And when science comes and points out that 
this beam or that string piece is decayed or cross- 
grained, and can support no weight and is weak- 
ening the structure, you shut your ears to its 
w^arning, just as you disregard the multitude of 
thoughtful men who know that science speaks 
truly; and these you are turning back, just as 
you would have turned me back if my profession 
had not taught me to think for myself; had not 
my great need impelled me to seek the truth in 
the face of your discouragement. 

^Shutting your eyes, too, to that lesson which 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 103 

history has continued to teach — from Amos down 
to St. Francis d'Assisi, and from him to Wesley 
— that out from the people God must send the 
prophet to rebulve the priest, and to teach him his 
tendency to error or to apathy. 

^Will you never learn to look within your own 
hearts ; that you may recognize the dangers that 
lie in the entrenched solitude of your studies? 

^From all sides — even from sects most tena- 
cious of the Pauline doctrine — there comes the 
plaint that clergy and laity are denying those 
fundamental truths of Christian doctrines: the 
faith in the immaculate conception of our Lord, 
and in His resurrection. You and I know that 
such denial is unscientific, since the ability to 
make such denial implies, at the outset, a 
thorough knowledge of the fundamental princi- 
ples of biology. Moreover, only he may make 
such denial who carries in his brain the dj^na- 
mometric power which enables him to measure 
the Divine creative dynamics and to ascertain 
their utmost power; and next, by a course of 
reasoning w^hich is incomprehensible to the or- 
dinary mind — and only reasoning, since actual 
test of that degree of power is apparently im- 
possible — he must demonstrate that the ultimate 
extent of this creative power fails short of the 
degree of creative energy needed to establish the 



104 VAZARETE OR TARSUSf 

germ of life primarily in a woman. While in- 
telligent denial of the resurrection of our Lord 
is impossible, till man possesses the knowledge 
that the portals by which the soul leaves the body 
are so irrevocably closed in death that He who 
placed the soul within those portals cannot con- 
duct it back again to its former dwelling place; 
while a knowledge of how the soul originally en- 
tered the body would seem essential to succss^ 
fully asserting that the body cannot again receive 
it after a brief separation. 

^But these men are as earnest thinkers as you 
and I are. Hence you and I have no right to 
condemn them — surely not you theologians who 
have put before them the temptations to doubt.' 

The clergyman was loyal to the faith that he 
had received. 

^It seems most unjust that you should charge 
us with tempting men to doubt, when we devote 
our lives to teaching the truths that have been 
tested for centuries and have never been found 
wanting. Would you renew the heresies of the 
early church, heresies that doubtless wrought 
its downfall, at least in the eastern church V. 

^Heresv is a word of such varied meaning — 
as you study it subjectively or objectively — that 
I must ask you to excuse me from ansv^^ering 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 105 

your question in a direct way ; yet I still believe 
that the encouragement to much of what you call 
heresy is to be found in the writings of Paul. 

^Yet if I have no quarrel with those who re- 
ject the doctrines which we regard as essential 
— doctrines which my limited studies have led 
me to believe in, which my experience in evidence 
permits me to recognize as natural and consist- 
ent — it is because these men demand nothing 
from me. They recognize that their investiga- 
tions are made in that same imperfect light in 
which the science of chemistry groped a century 
ago. 

^The advocates of the higher criticism recog- 
nize that they are in the period of the phlogiston ; 
of chemical decomposition; and that there will 
come the period of chemical combination, when 
the fires of a pure devotion will not burn with 
less of warmth because they are fed intelligently, 

^As I said, these men make no demands on 
me. They do not tell me that I can find the way 
to heaven only by accepting the guidance of the 
disordered mind of Saul of Tarsus, one-half of 
whose utterances it is necessary to ignore in 
order to believe the other half. 

^In considering the arguments and conclu- 
sions of those who seek truth by what is known 
as higher criticism, I am impelled to a choice of 
one of two positions. First, that they possess 



106 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

intellects so vastly superior to mine that they 
can recognize as conclusive proof that which 
seems to me to be only arbitrary denial on their 
part. I frankly admit it possible that Q.E.D. 
maj some time be written against that proposi- 
tion. The second possible condition is that, hav- 
ing grown to be hypercritical, they are too aca- 
demic, and do not regard the practical conditions 
that modify all evidence; do not recognize that 
probabilities are all that we can attain to in 
most of our attempts at demonstration; and 
most of all, do not favorably regard as 
collateral evidence that responsiveness to the 
needs of mankind which is afforded by those in- 
fluences which have their seat in beliefs that are 
founded on evidences which the higher criticism 
alleges are without adequate historicity. 

^Slow enough has been the advance in ethical 
and altruistic conditions. Yet, justly it seems 
to me, there may be demanded of the higher 
criticism that its keen, incisive reasoning demon- 
strate that through all the centuries of Christian- 
ity these conditions would have been more widely, 
more highly developed, if critical scholarship had 
eliminated at the outset all that is not demon- 
strable in the foundation of those beliefs that 
apparently have promoted the advance in those 
ethical and altruistic conditions. I am ready 
to regard the possible objections that these de- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 107 

velopments of beneficent influences are neither 
proofs of the truth of those beliefs that are 
claimed as the source of those beneficent influ- 
ences, and also that their coincidence does not 
prove their relation to each other. 

^The conditions of the demand are unchanged. 
It seems a just demand that higher criticism dem- 
onstrate what would be the present status of 
ethical and altruistic conditions, if the beliefs 
which scholarly criticism foster had been prev- 
alent and potent, its negations established ever 
since Christianity was demonstrated. The ordi- 
nary mind entertains such profound respect for 
the mental capacity of the advanced thinkers 
that the latter would be regarded as avoiding a 
fair test if this demand is ignored. 

^There would be, however, one consistent ex- 
cuse for avoiding the test ; namely, that religion 
should not be held responsible for the ethical 
and altruistic conditions that are coincident with 
it, since coincidence does not prove relationship ; 
and in taking this position scholarship would 
be correct academically. 

^Nevertheless, the ordinary mind is not in- 
clined to oppose itself to that practical appeal 
— the probability of the truth of the opposite 
of this contention; nor can it reconcile with the 
law of probabilities that the sacrificial Life 
should have created for itself so imperfect and 



108 NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 

SO indistinct a recollection that they who were 
its witnesses did not convej^ a reasonably cor- 
rect account of both His acts and language — 
even if that account was at first only oral. 

^It is ^^the man in the street'' to whom I shall 
make my appeals for a just recognition of the 
divinity of the Man of Galilee. I Avish to be 
equipped to meet his methods of estimating the 
value and the truth of evidence in general. 
Moreover, he is the man who would augment 
your church, if you would take the trouble to 
study him. 

^But this man is eminently practical. He de- 
mands of religion that it guide its possessor safe- 
ly past the dangers of moral shipwreck in a horse 
trade; and when it conveys consolation to the 
widow and the fatherless that it put a bag of 
potatoes under the wagon seat. 

^He cannot make the nice distinctions between 
dogma and doctrine, and so he is unable to 
understand how the gospel according to St. John 
"was written with a dogmatic purpose/' while its 
language is opposed to the prevalent Pauline doc- 
trine. 

^He cannot successfully argue the proposition, 
but, if you have enlisted his heart on your side, 
he cannot be convinced that the early martyrs 
gave their lives in devotion to one whose divinity 
^vas only dubiously attested : and though no 



NAZARETH OR TAR8USf 109 

student of history he will not believe it probable 
that the malignity of Roman emperors would 
have been directed against the followers of one 
whose claims to divinitv had no sound historical 
attestation — who was only the carpenter of 
Nazareth. 

^This man will recognize that these perse- 
cutors had at their command sources of infor- 
mation other than Galilean fishermen, and were 
too much absorbed in pleasure and in the mo- 
mentous interest of their \ast empire to make 
it probable that they would give any attention 
to a band of fanatics who were eminently non- 
resistant, unless those emperors felt that a real, 
though invisible, danger lurked beneath that non- 
resistance. Cruel enough by nature were those 
persecutors; but it was fear — prophetic fear, as 
time soon proved — that actuated them. Fear 
that doubtless had its source in the knowledge 
of the supernatural power of the Master of those 
fanatics; and that knowledge of His power was 
frequently recognized by those whom those em- 
perors had placed in power in Judea. 

^That this ^^man in the street" does not possess 
the scholarship which enables him to stamp any 
alleged fact as improbable, solely because it can- 
not command an unbroken train of historical 
evidence, can be regarded as a defect which time 
may correct. Yet^ oil the other hand, he has 



110 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

seen — perhaps painfully experienced — the de- 
ceptiveness of circumstantial evidence and of 
inferences, so that he will place little value on the 
deductions of scholars when they urge nega- 
tions which are the result of reasonings which 
are academic. 

This man, whom you ought to seek to win, is 
not inclined to honor demands on his credu- 
lity, but he has not the mental capacity to recog- 
nize the force of the argument of the higher 
criticism against the probability of miracles, that 
the question is not ^^What can God do?" but 
^^What does He do?'' 

^But w^hen this practical man sees plant life 
change all the form, structure, development, 
which it has inherited through countless genera- 
tions, that it may stretch itself up to the sun- 
light from the pit where it has been unnatu- 
rally placed; developing with an effectiveness 
which indicates the exertion of adaptive intel- 
ligence — within itself or from without; or when 
he regards the expansion by cold, of that ele- 
ment which is the most expansive by heat, and 
studies the disastrous results if ice were to fol- 
low the general law that heat expands and cold 
contracts; this practical man has not the acu- 
men to comprehend the asserted limitations of 
the divine adaptive pov/er, for he cannot under- 
stand the claim that this exercise of adaptive in- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf m 

telligence is exerted for material results only, 
and that it cannot, or will not, be used in dem- 
onstrating — through miracles — that the limita- 
tions of divine power are incomprehensible by 
the human intellect. Consequently he cannot 
intelligently follow that course of induction by 
which the student of advanced theology can con- 
vince himself thsit miracles are improbable. 
Yet this student is consistent in his negations. 

^But you lay side by side the Acts of the Apos- 
tles and the Epistle to the Galatians, and you 
expect men to believe both. For, in your stern 
determination to maintain the dicta of Paul^ 
you are reckless of inviting distrust of both 
records — through the opposition of each to the 
other. And then, when men have learned that 
lesson of distrust, you w^onder that they go on 
to doubt essentials. 

^Will the time ever come that you will be con- 
tent to teach the simple creed of a natural God 
and a consistent gospel? For that gospel can 
never be consistent while you demand belief in 
statements diametrically opposed to one another. 

^Doubtless there are some comparisons and 
analyses which demand a knowledge of the- 
ology, at least of philology, and of the original 
text. But it requires only a reasonable knowl- 
edge of the principles of evidence to compare 



112 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

the testimony of Acts and of Galatians. The 
account in the early part of Acts appears to be a 
quotation from some other author by the his- 
torian of St. Paul. An evident and convincing 
consistency pervades that part. Its language 
and thought are just what we have a right to 
expect from men who had awakened to the great- 
ness of their loss, simultaneously wath their 
awakening to the divine grandeur of the Master ; 
awakened, too, to the responsibility that He had 
laid upon them. 

^Conscious of their human weakness, they are 
full of conscious power in the strength that He 
has bequeathed to them. This record of their 
dignity, their rapt self abnegation, their noble 
awe as they recognize their responsibility, bears 
the impress of truth. 

^By the side of this deep, placid stream of 
thought you let run the wild, turgid flow of 
uncurbed emotion that the early chapters of 
Galatians display. It does not need either 
scholar or scientific philologist to recognize that 
this flow has no higher source than the heart of 
a man who is chafing under keen personal dis- 
appointment. Envy of the apostles has grown 
almost to hate. Truth is no barrier in the un- 
restrained rush of chagrin and evident jealousy. 

^In other epistles he has shown a degree of 
chagrin and petulance because he had not re- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 113 

ceived the personal devotion to which he felt 
that he was entitled. It would be amusing^ if 
it were not so serious a matter, to witness in 
those plaints how his personal pride recoils from 
recognizing the neglect ; and how he bestows ful- 
some praise — which displays its tenuitj^ in the 
strained terms of a gratitude unnaturally simu- 
lated, and which could not for a moment deceive 
any one who has made a study of evidence. 

^But in this epistle all caution is thrown aside. 
Unimpeded by actual facts the unguarded 
statements run. Yet he recognizes that these 
statements will be sharply challenged — indeed 
he gives us all the more reason for questioning 
their truth by his oath, ^^Before God I lie not." 

Tity for the disordered mind is the highest 
sentiment which these chapters should arouse. 

^And yet the church has been so ^^falsely true'' 
to what it has construed as a divine message, that 
it has practically told the world that it has so 
little faith in the convincing power of the great 
underlying truths of Christianity, that it does 
not dare to eliminate these statements of a dis- 
ordered mind ; statements that might be ignored 
if they did not deny important truths. 

^But in its challenge of the truth of the post- 
resurrection history of the Church at Jeru- 
salem Paul's language attacks statements which 
are close to essential truths of Christianity. 



114 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

For if belief in the post-resurrection history is 
destroyed we must expect that the ante-resur- 
rection history will be questioned. Consequent- 
ly, to the unquestioning believer two conditions 
are presented. 

^First: That the doctrines which Paul pro- 
mulgated are mysteriously essential to a true 
faith in Christ. Second: That those essential 
doctrines are inscrutably identified Avith the per- 
sonality of Paul. So that all of his utterances 
— even if involving no question of doctrine — 
must be accepted as the truth, even if they con- 
flict with the post-resurrection history, regard- 
less of the fact that such conflict invites distrust 
of the earlier basic history of Christianity. 

^Now please tell me if I have stated the case 
unfairly? 

^Yet first let me examine with you that chain 
of dogma on which, as you tell me, the Pauline 
theology is dependent. 

^As I recall it, it was in effect as follows — 
that all mankind having merited eternal death, 
through the disobedience of our first parents, 
universal pardon could be obtained only through 
the sacrificial death of Christ. You elaborated 
this in four propositions. 

^I frankly admit that their sequence is natural, 
that each succeeding link is the logical conclu- 
sion from that which precedes it;, and I have 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS? US 

only one objection to admitting its power to sus- 
tain the dogma Avliich is dependent upon it. 

^The first link, like Mohammed's coffin, is 
floating in the air, at least to my vision; and 
when that first link falls the succeeding links 
must collapse. Nowhere in the teachings of our 
Lord does it have support, and nowhere in the 
Old Testament can there be found a sustaining 
power, though there are tv>^o or three sentences 
of dubious meaning which may be wrested to a 
semblance of support.' 

^No; not a semblance of support,' the clergy- 
man said. ^A divine hand reaches down and 
grasps it, through the revelation vouchsafed to St. 
Paul. That which you contemn — that ^^my gos- 
pel" which he received, ^^not with flesh and 
blood," but by direct inspiration, was his au- 
thority.' 

And to this the Man answered: 

^When a iMormon elder can obtain an addi- 
tional wife only by receiving a revelation ; when 
to a Koman pontiff a coveted additional power 
can come only through a revelation; or when a 
Paul must witness the collapsing of the chain 
of reasoning upon w^hich his whole system of 
dogma is dependent, unless he can fasten its 



IIG Nazareth or tarsus? 

first link to a revelation, we have a right to con- 
sider the frailty of human nature, and to recog- 
nize that an intense and longing contemplation 
of any object of absorbing interest makes the 
mind — especially a mind so ready to entertain 
visions as was St. Paul's — unfitted to discrimi- 
nate between actual revelation, and a conviction 
founded on a believed need of establishing a 
cherished theory. To my mind it is illogical to 
claim that our Lord should have left any impor- 
tant element of his mission to be developed at a 
later period, by any method so unreliable — 
through opportunities of deception and dangers 
of self-deception — as are revelations. For my 
part I find a sufficiency in that which our Lord 
alone has taught, and I can find no compensation 
for the undermining effect of the flood of revela- 
tions which have their inception through Paul.' 

The clergyman faced his visitor for the final 
struggle. 

^You have chosen to establish yourself in a 
position which is not fortified by Christian ex- 
perience. You eliminate all that Christian 
scholarship has vindicated in the writings of St. 
Paul. You deny the reliability of the gospel of 
St. Luke. What will you or I gain by trying to 
meet on any common ground? You choose to 
deny so much. I challenge you to any proof of 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 117 

that to which you choose to pay a quasi respect. 
Define to me by what principles of electism you 
reject as false or accept as true. You accuse 
St. Paul of opening the door to heresies ; you who 
are encouraging the atheist, by your denials, to 
deny the essentials of Christianity. What can 
you offer to him in proof of Christ's divinity?' 

Then the Man calmly replied : 

^I offer the evidence of His miracles ; they are 
testimony to the divine sanction of His claims 
of sharing divinity.' 

^And if the atheist chooses to follow your ex- 
ample; if he denies the historic accuracy of all 
of the four gospels, as you do that of the third 
gospel, you are powerless to refute him?' the 
clergyman replied. 

^Not powerless, and you know it. I plant my 
defense on the Toledoth Jeschu. By all prin- 
ciples of evidence that attack of His enemies 
never would have been written if the miracles 
had not been supernatural beyond the power of 
the human intellect to assign a natural cause; 
indisputable proof it gave, too, that the record- 
ing of them was historically reliable.' 

The Man had risen while making his answer, 
preparing to end the interview. Each looked 



118 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

into the other's face, and each face expressed 
something akin to contempt. Surely the clergy- 
man's face reflected his feelings. To defend his 
position he had assumed the attitude of the 
atheist. He felt that he was safe in his false 
position. For twenty years he had taught the 
accepted truths of Christianity to his charge, 
and he had measured this man by the same stand- 
ard that he applied to those to whom he minis- 
tered. And now his visitor, who only six months 
ago was like a little child in trust and submis- 
sion, had proved him to be a dissimulator. No 
wonder the clergyman was contemptuous — to- 
wards himself — in his failure to use, success- 
fully, the weapons of the atheist; yet ready to 
have the contempt construed as anger because 
his creed had been attacked. 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf Hd 



IX. 



Soon after his return to his home, this letter 
was delivered to the Man: 

"Dear Sir : I fear that you have been actu- 
ated not so much by a desire to discover truth, 
as to VN^eaken my own faith by your sophistries 
and intemperate assaults on the authority of a 
man v>hom the Church has regarded for centu- 
ries as an inspired and able champion of the 
Christian faith. Calmlv I view that universal 
and undimmed faith in St. Paul, as it stretches 
out in a vista of nearly two thousand years. 

"It will require more than you have advanced 

in vour conversations with me to shake that con- 

t/ 

fidence in him which I hold, in common with all 
Christendom. In reverence for St. Paul Cath- 
olic and Protestant stand together; the most 
radical divisions on creeds and forms do not 
weaken this unity. 

"I grant that I cannot refute all of your state- 
ments and inferences. St. Paul may have been 
egotistical, imperious, proud of his intellectual 
acquirements; but the impress which he has 



120 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

made on the Christian thought of the ages is not 
to be obliterated by the charge of insanity. 

^^Temporarily your assertions and arguments 
have clouded my mind; but my faith rises above 
the mists you have called up, and I have peace, 
as myriads of souls have had during the past 
centuries, and in that I find rest. 

"Had you succeeded in your evident purpose, 
I would have been driven to acknowledge that I, 
and all who teach the theology based on the doc- 
trines of St. Paul, are teaching lies. AVhat then 
could I do? I must either continue to teach a 
lie or withdraw from the ministry to which I 
believe mvself called of God, and to w^hich I 
have devoted the best years of my life. 

"Did it occur to you for even a moment what 
such an uprooting of my faith would cost? If I 
stood alone, it would be bitter, even agonizing. 

"To deny my faith would be to make homeless 
those whom God has given me to love and care 
for. As I write I hear the sound of my crippled 
daughter's crutch. Every tap of that crutch 
3mites my heart like a blow. She is helpless, 
shut out from most of the pleasures that should 
delight her youth, deprived of the joy that should 
crown her coming womanhood. The burden lie^ 
heavily on that young heart. Shall I make it 
heavier by depriving her of the comforts which 
now — though I am only a poor clergyman— my 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 131 

position enables me to command? I have taught 
her that it is a Father's hand which thus afllicts 
her, and she is sustained by believing this. The 
faith you despise is her strength and support, as 
it is mine. At your bidding shall I surrender 
this? No. My lips may not have a ready an- 
sv^^er to your arguments. But my heart tells me 
that it is safer to cling to the teachings of 
the revered instructors of my youth. I decline 
to read your communication, because I will not 
f isk the weakening of my faith through that 
which it may speciously advance. I believe 
they knew the truth. I am content to follow 
their instruction and not your reasonings, the 
fallacies of which I shall find in due time. Mean- 
while I shall pray for you, for I wish to believe 
that you are sincere in your desire to find the 
right way. 

"Faithfully yours, 

"James Underwood.'' 

Deliberately the Man reread the letter, quot- 
ing aloud, "I fear you have been moved • . . 
by desire ... to weaken my own faith.'' 
There was a trace of sarcasm in his voice as he 
repeated : 

^^0/^^, wad some poioer the giftie gie us 
To see oursels as ithers see us; 
It wad frae mony a blunder free us 
And foolish notion/^ 



122 'NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

^It seems to me to be a clear case of ^^the pot 
calling the kettle black." And surely it wasn't 
I who began this fencing with creeds. It is posi- 
tively refreshing — the coolness with which he ig- 
nores his OAvn attack on my faith. How indif- 
ferent he was then to the consequences to me — 
perhaps through eternity — of his attempt to de- 
stroy my faith. And yet, how virtuously indig- 
nant he is when I, in turn, attack his faith.^ 

Again he quotes from the letter : "I view that 
universal and undimmed faith in St. Paul, as it 
stretches out in a vista of nearly two thousand 
years." 

^Ah, my dear minister, how convenient is a 
bad memory. For during that same ^^nearly two 
thousand years" the fires of a material hell also 
have been ^^undimmed"; have flashed as luridly 
as at the beginning of those centuries. And al- 
though so recently as is your own childhood that 
material hell was preached, still you know that 
to day you would not presume to preach that doc- 
trine to any intelligent congregation. Hence — 
in the light of this radical change of belief dur- 
ing your own lifetime — who are you to assert so 
positively the permanence of that ^^blood doc- 
trine" which St. Paul has engrafted onto the 
Christian faith? 

The one error has died out, its lurid* fires pal- 
ing before the light of the Sun of Righteousness, 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 123 

No visible power has dispelled the intervening 
clouds, but silently they melted away. And since 
within a half century these sulphurous flames 
have ceased to be visible, bold beyond prudence 
is he who can assert that those Pauline blood 
stains on the garments of the Father will not 
fade away in the light of those same pure rays 
which subdued the baleful flames of God's im- 
puted wrath.' 

He read on, and the hard lines in his face 
Y/ere fading; a gentler mood possessed him. 
Once more he quotes : "Shut out from the pleas- 
ures which should delight her youth.'^ "It is a 
Father's hand that has imposed the burden.'' 

^No; it is not a "Father's hand." Every miracle 
of healing from the hand of our Lord : within our- 
selves every impulse of tenderness and of pity 
for those who suffer, gives the lie to this. And 
more plainly still, "whom Satan hath bound ; lo, 
these fifteen years," is the direct and unqualified 
refutation by our Lord of this calumny. 

^In this attributing her suffering to a loving 
Father he is not even consistent with his Pauline 
teaching. For unqualifiedly Paul describes death 
as an enemy — the last enemy — that Christ is to 
conquer. 

^We have a right to apply here the axiom that 
"the greater includes the less ;" so it is logical to 
consider that disease, and every disaster that 



124 NAZARETH OR TARSUSt 

produces death, originates Avith that ^^enemy"; 
a power which cannot be an ally or instrumental- 
ity of divinity, since it is so inimical that Christ 
must conquer it. 

^How Satan must rejoice in this attributing to 
God the consequences of his own malignity ! Yet 
what avails the positive statements of our Lord 
If they are opposed by the dicta of an established 
tlieology? For religion is but the handmaid of 
theology. 

^ ^^Bound, lo, these fifteen years/' has been this 
innocent child ; and for thrice fifteen years more, 
perhaps, she will be in Satan's leash. Would 
God that I could find some way to weaken 
those bonds that make her ^^shut out from the 
joys that should bless." ' 

lie rose and paced the room, as was his cus- 
tom when some grave problem tried him; then 
he lay with his face in his hands, as he was Avont 
to do when the solution seemed almost hopeless. 

^Mentally, emotionally, physically ; these 
bound the horizon of the possibilities.' He was 
arguing with himself. ^The second must be 
eliminated. That is a province which, now at 
least, I have no right to enter. That is too 
largely controlled by her father. The first is too 
abstruse; I have not now the knowledge of the 
conditions' that would enable me to work intelli- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 125 

gently. Let that be laid aside, at least for the 
present. 

'But the last possibility, "physically''? 

'Surgical skill has admitted its powerlessness. 
I cannot change that condition. To supplement 
materially: that alone is left. But how?' 

Presently he arose, his countenance showing 
his sense of relief — at least of his hope of a 
solution — and he rang the bell. Promptly the 
maid would have answered the call, but a wom- 
an anticipated her, herself answering the sum- 
mons. 

'You called me.' 

'I rang.' 

'But YOU called me.' 

There was something triumphant in the tone; 
something exultant in the pose and manner of 
the woman, as she stood at the library threshold, 
repeating her answer to his call. 

But let us see who this woman is who awaits 
his invitation to enter. 

Not wife, not daughter. For there was an 
archness and an expression half pleading, half 
winning, to which assured position makes a 
woman superior — or makes her indifferent to 
please in little things — as you prefer. 



126 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 



"WANTED— The daughter of an army officer desires a 
position as housekeeper. Has had experience in her own 
home. Would prefer a location other than in central New 
England. Address,'' etc., etc. 

Naturally, the last sentence of the advertise- 
ment attracted attention, and the Man gave it 
careful study. Pride as its motive he quickly 
eliminated, for if merely loss of income had com- 
I3elled her to leave her home the entire wording 
w^ould have been different. It was evident that 
she W'ished to remove herself from painful asso- 
ciations, w^hich financial losses alone W'Ould not 
have made repugnant. Betw^een the lines he 
read a sense of shame w^hich impelled her to seek 
a position among strangers. But because the 
lines were there he w^as sure that the shame was 
a reflected one — not her own. He read, too, a 
consideration for others ; an unwillingness to in- 
vite replies which she would not wish to con- 
sider. 

He w^rote briefly, stating his position, and that 
entire responsibility and an independent author- 
ity w^^ould be given to any one who w^as placed' 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 127 

at the head of his household. To this there came 
the answer: 

^^Dear Sir: I thank you so much for your 
reply. I like it — more than any reply I have 
received. I dreaded taking this means of sup- 
porting myself, because I feared I should be sub- 
ject to another woman's whims. I am already 
building castles in the air and wondering what 
all will be like, if you will be so good as to give 
me the position. And if I am at all impatient, it 
is because I must consider other replies, which 
I frankly tell you are not so welcome as yours. 
Let me tell you at once — and have the shameful 
story over — why I must support myself and wiiy 
I wash to leave old associations. 

^^My husband was recently committed to state 
prison, for ^irregularities' in his accounts. He 
was head bookkeeper in a bank here. Can I send 
you any references? Please command me if you 
wish me to tell you anything more about myself. 
I will be only too glad to respond. 

"Most respectfully yours, 

"Edith Adams Marriner.-"^ 

And thus the Man's analysis ran: ^Either 
this is a somewhat impulsive young woman — 
perhaps younger than Mrs. Grundy would per- 
mit me to take into my household, if I and Mrs. 



128 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

Grundy had mutual friends whose interest in 
me was shown in other ways than, ^^thou shalt 
not'' — or else it's a good many years since she 
"picked the shell/' and yet is trying to pass her- 
self off as a spring chicken. She is very ingenu- 
ous and frank, or she is skilled in flattery. For- 
tunately there is no half way ground, and the 
closing sentence of her advertisement tells me — 
by its inner meaning — more than all that she has 
written. So I will give her the benefit of the 
doubt; and I will hope that she is young and 
handsome, and will make an attractive piece of 
bric-a-brac, to put in this cabinet — my home. 
That the "irregularities" were not in any degree 
her own fault, that she did not tempt her hus- 
band into extravagance, I am convinced — unless 
shells an old cat playing kitten — for conscious 
guilt would have exemplified "gt^i s'excuse^ s^ac- 
ciise^^ ; and she would have told a pretty fairy tale 
of "deceived into liberal home expenditures by 
his boasting of successful speculations, which 
made her feel free to enjoy his seeming success.'^ 
So I will telegraph that I will come to-morrow.' 

His hand was on the call. ^No, I will go un- 
announced; a woman of character and true re- 
finement is never placed at a disadvantage by 
the unexpected.' 

lie found the conditions practically as he had 
anticipated, in regard to the wife's innocence of 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 129 

any share in her husband's downfall. That hus- 
band had been tempted by his vanity — his intense 
personal vanity that made him oblivious to the 
suffering and shame that would fall on his wife. 
The bank had among its prominent patrons a 
coterie of good fellows, who never neglected busi- 
ness for pleasure — if they w^ere liable to be 
caught at it. And though "a good workman is 
known by his chips/' the ^^chips" to which they 
devoted a large portion of their nights repre- 
sented the debris of energies that were too much 
wasted to permit competing successfully in busi- 
ness with capacities that were unimpaired. So 
they must have accommodation at the bank, 
and more than their ^^limit" would allow. 

Very much flattered was the struggling book- 
keeper when these prominent men became so 
friendly to him, offering him an opportunity to 
add to his income by devoting his evenings to the 
books and accounts of the club where they met 
every night. Perhaps it was through the manip- 
ulation of these men that complaint was made 
that this income passed to one w^ho was not a 
member of the club, and so he was induced to 
use part of his new income in the payment of 
his dues — his entry fee generously paid by his 
friends. It was so easy to cajole him into a 
"quiet game/' now that the club rules permit- 
ted him to play. It was just as easy to let him 



130 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf t 

win, and still easier to flatter his vanity by ad- 
miring his skill and coolness. And then, when 
the time was ripe, the play was made heavy and 
he lost, and lost again, then won, till at last he 
lost his head — and half a year's income. Pity 
he had not then some friend to go to who would 
have shown to him the pitfall which his false 
friends were digging under his feet. But his 
captors did not demand any money; his note 
would suf&ce, and ^^your old luck will come back.'' 
And so it did ; and then went away faster than it 
came — and farther. Then there was a birthday 
dinner given, and, when the wine had made him 
ripe for his fall, the generous hosts gave him back 
his notes and drew from him the promise to give 
them large accommodation at the bank, sub- 
stituting notes that they knew to be valueless for 
the bank's cash, and to falsify his books to cover 
the deception. 

He saved them from business failure. He 
wrecked himself. It was the old story. A sud- 
den sharp illness; a new man at the books. A 
call at his house by the cashier of the bank. A 
confession of that which was self-evident. 

But his tempters were prompt in their offers 
of help. They secured the best legal counsel, 
who in a fatherly way convinced him that to 
plead guilty would lighten his sentence ; that not 
to implicate the influential men whom he had 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 131 

"accommodated'' would command their influence 
to secure a speedy pardon, and assure their aid to 
put him on his feet again when his short term 
was over, they meanwhile caring for his wife. So 
the prison walls closed on him, the weak victim, 
while his tempters were astounded and, with the 
gravity of hypocrisy, regretted that so promis- 
ing a young man should wreck his prospects. 

Through it all his wife uttered no word of 
reproach. His ^honor' prevented him from tell- 
ing her how he had disposed of his thefts. So 
well had the able counsel done his work. 

He was the man to w^hom she had given her- 
self, both body and soul, in her first love. So she 
could not hate him. 

He was silent when she asked him where the 
money had gone. So she could not pity him. 

She had only one thought — to find some place 
where every one did not regard her with either 
pity or contempt. 

Yes, she was young; and if not beautiful, no 
man need fear, when he had friends to entertain, 
that she would not lend grace to the head of the 
table. 

While waiting for her to respond to his an- 
nouncement — and he carefully noted the minutes 
that she required to make herself presentable — 
he hastily examined the photographs in the room 



132 VAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

till he found the face for which he had been 
seeking. Just a trace of a smile played about 
his lips as he regarded the face of a man of 
thirty. ^Weak, vain, selfish; not the selfishness 
of a mean nature, but of one who had been 
petted and had groAvn to be thoughtless of others. 
No woman who could admire true nobility of 
character could love such a man. Let us hope' 
— he said to himself — ^that she was only a girl 
when she married ; maybe it was for the interest 
of others to exhibit him to her in a too flattering 
light. We will see.' 

The Man had barely ended his analysis and in- 
ferences when the door of the room opened. He 
was just a little flattered by the eager expectancy 
which lightened her face. Truly she had been 
^^building castles in the air/' for she came for- 
ward with hand extended, as if she were meeting 
an old friend. 

^It is a pleasant surprise. But wasn't I worth 
just a little word that I might have the pleasure 
of looking forward to your call? You can't un- 
derstand what a pleasure it is to see a new face ; 
a face that hasn't followed me for months, al- 
ways showing consciousness of my misfortune. 
I hope that you never knew what it is to have 
the fault of some one else to bear.' 

The Man drew a little breath as if hit unex- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 133 

pectedly. ^^Arcades am6o/^ he said to himself. 
^We have both tasted the same cup.' 

^Do you believe in presentiments?' she con- 
tinued, ^or inspirations, or angePs whispers, or 
call them what you will? Well, when your let- 
ter came my heart seemed to leap into my throat 
before I opened it. I felt that it held my fate.' 

She had turned impulsively, and as she looked 
him full in the face and saw his eyes intently 
regarding her, her voice wavered, and for a mo- 
ment she was silent. Presently in more meas- 
ured sentences, her eyes holding a far-off look^ 
she added in self-reproachful tones : 

^I fear that I have made a grave mistake. I 
cannot blame you if you have misunderstood me ; 
if you have thought me bold and unwomanly.' 

But the frank naturalness of her impulses 
broke quickly through the constraint ; and again 
looking fully and calmly into the face that was 
as free as her own from false sentiment, she 
added : 

'I beg you to regard the oppressive burden of 
these weeks of worse than widowhood. Put your- 
self in my place — but without a man's resources ; 
only the choice between pity or contempt in every 
face that you saw. And then you came. You 
gave me no time to compose myself. I came to 
you at once. My heart was full of hope. I had 
not time to think. I could only feel; only long 



134 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

that you were to take me away from my humilia- 
tion.' Then she waited in suppressed anxiety 
for his answer. 

^You asked me/ he said, 4f I believed in pre- 
sentiments. Yes and no. I think there was 
never a woman who cared for my welfare but 
startled me with a strange, though imperfect, 
insight into my actions. They were impressions 
which could not have come by mortal knowledge. 
Let me tell you the most striking. 

^I was trying to find who was the writer of a 
letter that was evidence of a crime. I had in- 
advertently taken a car that was dropped at 
a little city, so I there must remain for the next 
train to the place where I thought it probable 
that the author of the letter lived. 

^To beguile the time I took some letters which 
had been given to me and began to compare 
them with the incriminating letter. I was doing 
it idly almost ; for there seemed no possible mo- 
tive for such a deed on the part of the person 
who had written them. Suddenly the unexpect- 
ed happened, and I was forced to believe that this 
woman had written the incriminating letter. 

^I immediately took a train for her home. She 
answered my ring at her door and greeted me 
with almost hysterical effusiveness. "It is such 
a relief," she said; "I beg you to stay till I am 
composed. I have a horror of being alone; 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 135 

such a blow came to me to-day. I was in my 
sewing room, when it seemed as if a great weight 
fell on my head and was crushing me to the 
floor, and I was filled with the horror of an un- 
known but terrible danger.'' ^^When did the 
blow fall?'' I said. ^^It was just four o'clock," 
she replied. That was exactly the hour when the 
conviction of her guilt came to me. And yet she 
welcomed me who had forged the bolt. So you 
see why I said ^^Yes and no." ' 

The story had accomplished its mission. The 
tension was removed. 

When a man who has little admiration for the 
sex in general meets a woman whose character 
commands his respect in spite of her womanhood, 
he pays to her an earnest courtliness of admira- 
tion that cannot fail to impress through the lofti- 
ness of its sincerity. As the Man rose to leave, 
his whole being showed how far removed were 
his sentiments from the pity or contempt which 
had been her dailv ^^bread of affliction." 

^May I ask you one or two questions?' he said. 

^Most assuredly; a whole catechism, if you 
will. I vrould be sorry — should you let me come 
under your roof — if there was a question you 
wished that you had asked, yet had not given 
me an opportunity to ansvrer.' 

^You were married quite young?' 



136 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

^Oli, yes; I was only seventeen.' 
^And your wedding was a quiet one?' 
^Very quiet. You see, my aunt, who brought 
me up, had daughters of her own, and she and 
they made me jealous; made me think that my 
Charlie was paying attention to some one else; 
and so the wedding was hurried, so that we could 
take our wedding trip in his holidays, and there 
wasn't time to have an elaborate wedding.' 

^Thank you for the answers,' he said, while a 
half cynical smile — unobserved by her — passed 
over his face. Then, handing her an envelope, he 
added : ^I earnestly desire that you should avail 
yourself of the references which this contains. 
On the face of my card I write the names of those 
who believe in me and trust me ; on its back, the 
names of enemies. You will probably have the 
good sense to accept neither good nor ill report 
without qualifying it by its opposite. The "media 
via ttitissima^^ of our copy books is as safe as it 
is old.' 

When he had gone a fev/ feet from her door, 
he turned as if mistaken in his way. But there 
was a boy's roguishness in his heart as he caught 
her — by a sidelong glance from the tail of his eye 
as he repassed her house— peeping through the 
slats. Then the cynical look came back to his 
face, as he said to himself: ^Those two answers 
tell me all of the circumstances, all of the influ- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 137 

ences that made the child — not the woman — ac- 
cept this weak man.' 

^Oh, my !' and her fingers Avent up and played 
an octave on the back of her head. ^I caught 
him looking intently at my back hair. I hope it 
is all right. But what funny questions. What 
difference will it make to him whether his house- 
keeper had a quiet wediling or a swell one?' 

"Ex pede Herculem/^ would have been his an- 
swer had she asked this question in his presence. 
By and by, when she has gained his confidence, 
and he uses her woman's eyes and wit to aid 
him in his studies, she will learn that from 
v>'ords, even more clearly than from more tangi- 
ble things, there can be developed the spectrum 
analysis which will reveal the true components of 
the ideas that the words express, or that they may 
be intended to conceal. 

^But this fat envelope ; what a lot of references 
it must contain! Does he expect me to write 
to all of these people? I think I had rather not 
open it, but take him for what I felt he was as 
soon as I saw him.' 

Her curiosity, however, triumphed over her 
fear that maybe some one would write unfavora- 
bly in reply, and tell her that he was a bad lot; 
then she cautiously opened the envelope. 

Nothing had been said by either in regard to 



138 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

her salary, 3- et here was a sum equal to the yearly 
stii)end that another had offered her. 

Some way it did not seem indelicate for him 
to place in her hands, or for her to receive, the 
crisp, clean bills. It seemed as if it was an ear- 
nest of tlie wish that his eyes had told to hers; 
that he should be found worthy that she should 
come under his roof. The manly thoughtfulness 
of the words that he had placed in the envelope 
made her wish to burn the list of references — at 
least, to write only to those who believed in him 
and trusted him. And that is just what she did. 
He told her — each word and phrase presented 
with consummate delicacy — that he liked her; 
that perhaps there was a bit of selfishness in his 
hope that against the dark background of her 
sorrow it might be vouchsafed to him to develop, 
in the home he knew she would adorn and bright- 
en, such a picture that the old darkness would 
be only a fading memory. That it would grieve 
him if she came oppressed by the memory of ob- 
ligations which the suddenness of the blow had 
made her unable to discharge; obligations per- 
haps to those who would suffer — or would speak 
illy of her, if payment was not made. And may- 
be, too, there were keepsakes that she wished to 
recover. This letter she laid away among the 
few jewels that were left to her. 

She wouldn't have been a real, warm-hearted, 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 139 

impulsive woman if she hadn't curled up and 
had a good cry ; then got just a little hysterical ; 
quickly recovering, however, for she must pay 
regard to the references. But she wrote to just 
as few as propriety would permit, and waited 
for the answers, oscillating between fear and 
perfect trust, as influences came from without 
or were from her own heart. 



140 It^AZ ARETE OR TARSUS f 



XL 



Now that the step was irrevocably taken, now 
that in only half an hour more the train would 
stop at the station from which she would be 
taken to his home, there came an irrepressible 
longing to return. 

She felt some influence, that seemed wholly 
outside of herself, swaying her impulses. She 
remembered vividly — too vividly for her present 
peace of mind — the tenderness of the parting 
with old acquaintances. 

So long as she expected to remain at home 
they were only formally cordial. But when they 
found that she was really to leave; when they 
knew that she would not continue to be a 
social incubus; no longer w^ould be one whose 
presence was to be apologized for, the sense of re- 
lief may have deceived even themselves into a 
friendly interest, that made natural the warm ex- 
pressions of regret at parting. The profuse 
wishes that she might find happiness in her new 
position, the emphatic approvals, to her face, 
of the step that she was taking, had the impress 
cf sincerity; though behind her back each Phar- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 141 

isee among them held up her hands in thank- 
fulness that she herself was not making her 
home, alone, with a man who was ^^so well pre- 
served.'^ A contrasting phrase that women are 
fond of using — when they suspect that their own 
youth is showing them its heels. 

And Avorse than this: more serious than the 
deceptive recollecting of the few bright closing 
hours of the life which she had left behind — 
the strange forgetfulness of the fear of ostra- 
cism that had made every meeting with old 
friends a source of anticipation of humiliation — 
she began to dread the meeting vvdth the man 
whose happiness she had longed to have in her 
keeping ; the hope of winning whose approval 
had made her so buoyant that her own joyous- 
ness made the more indifferent farewells seem 
considerate — even kind. 

^^In his power; in his power/' the railway 
wheels seemed to ring out continuously and 
mockingly, and presently she would have worked 
herself up into a most pronounced case of ^nerves' 
— that would have impelled her to do something 
absurd, so morbid was she becoming in her dread 
of meeting him — had not the train soon reached 
the station that was at the end of her journey. 

Waiting on the platform till the bustle of ar- 
rival and departure was over, she was making 
her way toward the baggage truck when she 



143 'NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

heard her name called. Turning she saw two 
extended hands and a countenance that had the 
exquisite tenderness that only sorrow can mold 
the features to. The face was set in rippling, 
iron gray hair, and the motherly gentleness 
of expression instantly won the confidence of the 
distraught woman. 

^Warmest welcome I bring to you.' The voice 
w^as as earnest as it was tender. ^Our dear 
friend is absent, but he has sent me to find you. 
His man will take all the care of your luggage 
if you will be so good as to point it out. Then 
dismiss all anxiety and let me care for you.' 

Strange perversity of womankind. The 
woman so cordially welcomed ought to have 
shown profound gratitude for the thoughtful- 
ness. She ought to have given a sigh of relief 
that the Man was conveniently out of the way, 
for twenty-four hours at least. But she did no 
such thing. She only answered: ^He is ab- 
sent!' and relapsed into a quiet nursing of her 
sense of neglect, because he had timed her ar- 
rival on a day when he would be away from home. 
By and by, when she had learned him better, 
she recognized that it was a delicate thought- 
fulness that substituted the motherly welcome. 
But fortunately her curiosity came to the rescue 
of her good manners — the lapse in which had 
only amused her hostess — and she was quite her 



NAZARETU OR TARSUSf 143 

natural self again by the time the two women 
had entered the carriage that was waiting for 
them. 

No distinguished visitor could have been re- 
ceived with more consideration. The guest 
chamber waited for her, daintily arranged and 
fragrant with flowers. 

As she looked at herself in the cheval glass, 
she said to her reflection : ^Well, you were a 
fool and no mistake; and I am ashamed of you; 
and if you had any sense of decency you would 
be ashamed of yourself. Go right downstairs 
and tell that dear angel without wings that you 
were a fool and deserved to be punished for the 
bad manners that you showed at the railway 
station.' And she did so; putting her arm 
around the gentle woman's neck and kissing her 
impulsively as she made her confession. 

Everywhere she saw, and delighted in, the evi- 
dences of his good taste. ^Guest I am to-night 
in this lovely home,' she said to herself exult- 
antly, ^and its mistress to-morrow and many to- 
morrows, and maybe on and on till ' She 

stopped and her face grcAv grave, — as many a 
time thereafter the shadows fell on it, and fell 
more darkly as the time approached when she 
must cease to be free; because freedom would 
come to ^him.' That was all the designation she 



144 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

ever gave in her heart when she thought of the 
author of her sorrow. 

But the call to tea happily came, breaking in 
upon her gloomy forebodings. Her hostess — 
w^ho had promptly explained that she had come 
only to teach a little of the tastes of the 
master — placed herself at the tea tray. As 
deftly as tastefully she made the function 
a graceful offering up of incense to the new 
priestess of the lares and penates of the house- 
hold; and made it a dignified induction to her 
new authority, with an impressment of defer- 
ence that assured the respect of those over whom 
the honored guest was to have authority. 

Then memory went back and labeled as only 
an ugly dream the wild vagaries that had op- 
pressed her at her journey's close. 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 145 



XII. 



^Now^ my dear child, sit right down by my 
side on this comfortable sofa and look right into 
this blazing wood fire, and build your castles in 
Spain while I tell you about this man.' She 
hesitated a moment and then added slowly and 
piquantly, ^whom you love.' 

^I ! I love! What do you mean?' 

^You told me so. You put your arms around 
my neck and confessed that you had told me so.' 

^I did no such thing. I confessed that I had 
been discourteous to you; that was all I said.' 

^And you were discourteous — because! And 
now, dear, I am asking no confession ; only giv- 
ing you a little discipline for your own good; 
teaching you to be less impulsive, though I 
would not have you less natural and sincere. I 
believe that you will make our friend's home ever 
so much brighter and happier. But I must beg 
you to remember that there are other eyes just 
as observant as mine, though not coupled with 
lips so discreet, or hearts so loyal to him and to 
you, too, for the sake of one who once prevented 
a great sorrow from falling on me and mine. 



146 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

^If I were to describe him in one word, I 
would say ^^chivalrous." Had I a daughter who 
could have filled the place you have taken, 
I would place her here, gladly. Hard and un- 
relenting he is to his enemies; and they are 
those whose evil deeds or heartless acts his firm 
hand has repressed or punished. The soul of 
loj^alty to his friends, or te any cause that he 
espouses, it may be that he is a shade too reck- 
less as to consequences — but never unjust — to 
win success ; for he is a stranger to fear. 

^Himself untiring, giving his best, he expects 
faithfulness; yet exacting less from others than 
he does from himself; and he is considerate. 
Frank, where frankness is due, yet by nature 
secretive, he has no patience for curiosity, and 
Avill not brook it. He regards it as among the 
grossest of insults. 

^His enemies will tell you that he is not a saint ; 
but I am sure that no man or woman ever left 
him with less of purity than he found them 
possessed of; while more than one despairing 
soul has taken hope and courage and has had 
the firmness to continue in the better way which 
his kindliness prompted him to provide. And 
they were steadfast in that way, because they 
knew that his strength would supplement their 
weakness, and that they could regard him as a 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS f I47 

faithful protector. Can I tell you anything 
more?' 

^Oh, yes; lots. How can I make him happy?' 

^h, now! Did ever a woman really wish 
to make any one happy^ and her womanly in- 
stincts not show her the way — if she is faithful 
to them? But this single suggestion will per- 
haps be inclusive of much. Let him see that you 
wish to make home restful. The rest of quiet 
— if he is oppressed with thought; the rest of 
your real buoyancy, if he is only fatigued. And 
above all, do not let him feel that you expect him 
to be always entertaining.' So the evening 
passed. 

The sensations that come to us on our awak- 
ening on the first morning of a new arranging 
of our lives have decidedly the flavor of our 
having become some one else. Out of these con- 
fused sensations the new mistress of the house 
was pleasantly called by the beauty and per- 
fume of the flowers which he had so thought- 
fully provided, and which she had placed by the 
side of her pillow. 

The first day was full of interest, in tactfully 
taking the measure of the servants. She re- 
membered, too, the advice of the evening before : 
to make a division of duties to each, clearly 
naming those that she reserved for herself; and 
to do this promptly, before a degree of f amil- 



148 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

iarity had made her authority less unquestioned. 

Night was falling and she felt a pleasant ex- 
hilaration as she looked forward to welcoming 
him. 

^Home at last, and at last a home to look 
forward to returning to.' He came in with a 
breezy, eager way, like a school boy just in for 
the holidays. He did not wait to remove his top 
coat, but sought her out at once and extended 
his hand with a sincere cordiality that made her 
at ease. ^I'm hungry as a bear; and after din- 
ner you must tell me all of the bad things that 
our friend said about me, so that I can imme- 
diately begin turning over a new leaf — any num- 
ber of new leaves.' 

She knew what he meant. ^Well, she was just 
lovely, and so cordial, and gave me such good 
advice that I am afraid I should have believed 
her if she had said bad things about 
you. But dinner is ready and you must go at 
once and get ready, for you men will m)t forgive 
a cold dinner — even if the fault is yours.' 

She listened till the sound of his steps ended 
at his own room. ^^He never had a sister. He 
shall know what a sister's love is if I have power 
to bring it to him.' 

As they were ready to part for the night he 
led the way to his library and opened the safe. 

^Here are duplicate keys for you. This 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 149 

drawer is yours. From it make all disburse- 
ments for the household — and deal with your- 
self as generously as you would deal with me if 
conditions were reversed. I shall ask no ac- 
counting. Good night.' He took her hand in 
both of his for a moment ; then left the room too 
abruptly for any thanks. 

The tears came into her eyes as she recalled 
his expression of confidence — his delicate avoid- 
ance of anything that would be like making 
terms with a servant. But she was too happy 
for tears, even of gratitude, to be lasting; and 
tossing the keys in the air with a child's glee she 
said, ^There's just one man in this world, and if 
I don't make him the happiest man that ever 
lived in it, then — may I lose these keys, and to 
another woman at that.' 

As the months passed by, her recognition of 
his strength grew apace ; and she grew into rest- 
fulness in it. ^Maybe there will be no ending; 
what he attempts he accomplishes. I will trust.' 
It was trust only; for she did not dare — did not 

care to consider how. She had learned to rest. 
♦ * * * * * 

Was it something akin to weariness with 
^^Aristides the Just" that at last brought to this 
placid home life a disturbing influence? Only 
a woman's love of power. No wish to hold his 
shorn locks in her lap. Only the desire to com- 



150 IJAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

mand his admiration for her womanhood. Sim- 
ply to dominate his calm, strong self-possession, 
and sway it in yielding recognition of her 
charms. 

These were the thoughts that prompted her to 
burst upon him in all the loveliness that she 
could command. ^Admire me ; tell me I am beau- 
tiful.' This was what the snowy, heaving, ''half 
concealed, half revealed" bosom, and the grace- 
ful outstretched arms were pleading for. Just 
an hour of a woman's triumphant power, won 
through his love of the beautiful, was all that 
she asked, as she stood before him in the uncon- 
scious temptation of her charms. 

Oh, Temptation, subtlest when you come and 
tell us that we are strong, and that we can safely 
harbor you; bidding us the while show to our- 
selves and to the world that we can treat you as 
a plaything. 

And she did win his admiration. Never could 
he forget how radiant she was, standing between 
the parted portieres, that made effective setting 
of her loveliness. Never would she forget how 
she swayed him. He stood silent a moment. 

^You are beautiful to-night,' impressively, 
calm and low. Then a deep gasp, a quivering of 
the hands, their palms turned outward as if 
pleading for possession. It was over in a mo- 
ment. The tempter had passed; for before the 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 151 

shadow came over his face, before the out- 
stretched arms fell passively, before he had ut- 
tered the words that filled her with shame for 
many a day, his good angel had flashed out from 
memory her warnings. He saw faces of men 
who had ^^renewed their youth'' and came to him 
haggard and appalled at the power — and its 
brutal use — that their temptresses held and ex- 
erted ; beseeching him to interpose his iron hand 
and deliver them. And clearer, perhaps because 
nearer, the face of one — she seemed to his ripe 
manhood hardly more than a child — who had 
come to him, the bitterness of death swallowed 
up in the terror of the shame she would bring 
to her home, and in the horror of the curse in 
her motherhood that she would inflict on the lit- 
tle life to be. Again there came to him, sounding 
like the funeral knell of hope, the stony, hard 
appeal of her hopelessness — all the more pa- 
thetic that its calmness was the icy strength of 
a frozen heart : ^I have engaged a position as 
companion to a lady going abroad. It will be 
easy to reach too far over the stern to recover 
my hat. The great deep ocean will never give 
up my ugly secret. My belt of shot will save 
me from rescue. I don't feel quite prepared to 
die; but I have no choice — unless you can save 
me. Will you?' 



153 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

^Three months' income for a life — two of 
them'; this to himself; and to her he said, ^Yes.' 

^Beautiful ! How your husband would admire 
you!' Had the hands that had fallen that mo- 
ment to his side been raised and struck her in 
the face she would not have recoiled more from 
the blow. Her face grew almost ashen from the 
shock, as she clutched the portieres for support, 
hiding her horror in their folds. Then suddenly 
she relaxed her grasp, gave him one look that 
was beseeching and reproachful, and fled to her 
room. 

It was a cruel kindness. Perhaps the sur- 
geon's knife need not have cut quite so deeply, 
but it was an emergency case ; there was no time 
to calculate closely. 

She almost tore her lovely costume to shreds 
in her bitter haste to put it away from her. She 
had planned with such care to make herself beau- 
tiful in his eyes; his only. It had been such a 
joy in its conception and execution. So many 
times she had rearranged it. It must be perfect, 
for it was for him, and now it lay before her, as 
thorough a wreck as was the joy she had tasted 
for a moment. Through that long night she lay 
sleepless, bitterly moaning till too exhausted to 
think, almost to feel. 

The wife of a thief. Bound ^^to love, honor 
and obey till death us do part.'' Shut out from 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 153 

human love, how can I believe even that God 
loves me? Yes, ^^till death us do part"; not his 
death, but mine. ^^Come, Lord Jesus, come quick- 
ly.'' He, the only man I ever met that was worth 
living for, he struck me with those cruel words. 
Did he think that I am only a child? Did he 
think that I hadn't power enough to command 
myself, if those strong arms that longed for me 
had really taken me? But he did love me; just 
one little miaute he loved me, and it cost him, 
oh, such an effort! I'm glad it cost him such a 
struggle. I can forgive him for the sake of that 
inward battle where he had to strike me to end 
this fight with himself.' 

And so, between the brief flashes of the rays 
of that one moment of triumph, and the dark, 
pervading clouds of the humiliation which was 
not of her own doing, the weary night passed 
on. 

And do you suppose he thought that she was 
^only a child'? Well, that treacherous ^^little 
god without breeches,'' the roguish child, Eros, 
nestles so innocently, and you watch his baby 
face in your bosom; and, lo, he has changed be- 
fore you know it; and he has grown to Amor, 
and he takes you in his strong arms, bearing you 
whither he listeth. 

The thickest pall of sorrow must lose a degree 
of its oppression when the exhilarating rays of 



154: yAZARETE OR TARSUSf 

the rising sun fall upon it; the sombre night is 
at last ended. 

She wondered Avhy he left the house so early. 

Presently he returned and she heard him come 
softly to her door, and as she listened there came 
a sound like a faint rap, but too soft to have 
awakened the lightest sleeper; then she heard 
him quietly returning to his library. 

Curiosity suggested to Sorrow that it step 
aside a moment till the cause of that sound had 
been investigated. Curiosity opened the door a 
little and in fell a box of flowers — a whole arm- 
ful of them. And with them such a tender let- 
ter. The blame was wholly his. He had been 
selfishly inconsiderate. Could she ever forgive 
him? He had been so happy in his home; she 
so buoyant, or so considerately unobtrusive, as 
his mood or need required, that he had forgotten 
the long, uneventful days filled with cares that 
were only repetitions of each other. He won- 
dered that the dreary monotony had not made 
her a candidate for a strait-jacket. He would 
send her off on a holiday, hating Mrs. Grundy all 
the while that he could not go with her, that he 
might see all the bright things through her eyes. 
She must drive out every pleasant day ; the horses 
needed the exercise. She must ^go out' more. 
And he closed with more self-reproach, begging 
her to wear to breakfast a few sprays of his fa- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 155 

vorite lily of the valley in token of her forgive- 
ness. 

This she did and entered the breakfast room, 
very busy in arranging another bunch that she 
might go straight to him and fasten it in his 
button hole, thus sparing herself the embarrass- 
ment of looking so high as his face in the morn- 
ing greeting, while he read aloud, with apparent 
intense interest, an item from the morning paper. 
She knew the article was so foreign to his real 
interest that the ludicrousness of his awkward 
attempt to relieve the embarrassment of the situ- 
ation appealed irresistibly to her appreciation 
of the funny. She burst into such shouts of 
laughter that he began to edge away towards his 
hat and top coat, fearing a display of hysterics 
would follow, but feeling even that would not be 
too high a price for escaping the dreaded awk- 
wardness of their meeting. 



156 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 



XIII. 

' "How are the mighty fallen.'' Can it be that 
this is the same man who rebuked me so piti- 
lessly because I came to him and sought his ad- 
miration? Was it not enough to have come be- 
hind my chair and whisper to me to meet him at 
ten o'clock to-night in his library — yet in not so 
low a tone but that the handsome maid heard him 
and looked her triumph over me? Was not this 
enough^ without his asking me to give him the 
photograph of that pretty maid— and all this in 
his own house?' Her idol was only a man after 
all ; he had fallen from his pedestal^ and she did 
not know whether most to pity him or despise 
him. 

But she obeyed him, and was chagrined beyond 
measure that the contempt she felt — and em- 
phatically expressed in her manner — was ap- 
parently unobserved by him, though she noticed 
his evident satisfaction as she gave him the girl's 
picture. 

Tlease send Osborn to me. I almost forgot 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS^ 157 

to thank you for the picture.' He certainly was 
very much absorbed in it. 

As Osborn entered he said: 

^Now, my dear fellow, you said you wished to 
go to your club to-night.' 

^Yes, I would like to go; but if I can be of 
service to you, I will gladly give it up.' 

'So far from your staying away for me, I 
should be sorry if you did not go. You told me 
that there was to be a little supper at your club. 
At the proper time take this envelope from your 
pocket, saying that it was received from a friend, 
and you don't know what is in it. Open it and 
pass its contents around for comments. Tell me 
what you learn ; but don't come to me till morn- 
ing.' 

* * ♦ ♦ ♦ * 

^Let me have a game of chess with you.' 
She saw that the pieces were set and that the 
Man was seated at the table, as she entered the 
library at the hour he had named. He welcomed 
her without looking up. It v/as so unlike his for- 
mer self. 

^I hope to show you some new moves to-night,'' 
he added. The play had lasted perhaps twenty 
minutes, and she was sure that she held the ad- 
vantage, when he almost hissed ^Checkmate.' 
^But you needn't strike the table so hard and 
nearly upset the pieces/ she said. 



158 NAZARETH OR TARSUS^ 

He made no answer, softly rising; and as he 
looked into her strained face he was glad that the 
test was over. Noiselessly approaching the 
door, he quickly opened it. 

^What are you here for?' The girl stood para 
lyzed, but stammered out in reply : 

^I thought you wished me to wait up till Os- 
born came in.' 

^Then sit there.' He pointed to the place 
where — in the now unlighted hall — a chair usu- 
ally stood, and quickly closed the door. As the 
girl came to the floor with a heavy fall, he 
pointed laughingly to the hall chair, now within 
the library. 

^And the last move of the game. Listen! I 
was sure that the hard floor would astonish her 
into the ^^flight that is confession." 

The girl had picked herself up, groped her 
way through the dark hall and was rushing to 
her room, her noisy steps impelled by anger and 
chagrin. 

The ^aast move" ? Yes ; yet I feel that the last 
move should be my going down on my knees, for 
my distrust of you. For all the while that I 
doubted you you were arranging a punishment 
for her, because you saw that she was insulting 
me by her base suspicions.^ 

And he replied : ^Your heart is kneeling and 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 159 

pleading so charmingly that I can ask for noth- 
ing more.' 

Through tears she looked up laughingly, as 
she put out both her hands and said: ^Good 
night ; and if you catch me again, base deceiver, 
it will be I that will have ^^the last move.'' I will 
find a way to checkmate you.' 

^You have had your lesson?' he asked. 

^Lesson? a whole curriculum; graduated and 
entitled to a diploma.' 



^I hope that you have recovered from your fall 
of last night.' There was nothing mocking in the 
Man's tones ; they were very business-like in their 
greeting as the girl entered the library on the fol- 
lowing morning. 

^I leave your house to-day,' the girl replied 
with bravado. 

^And you will go to — — ?' He stopped, and 
was drawing from his pocket her photograph. 

^I don't know that it is any of your business 
where I will go.' This even more defiantly. 

As she spoke, he was coming close to her, and 
placed her picture in her hands. Osborn had let 
it run the gauntlet of the club, and it bore the 
marks of the encounter. She glanced down at it 
and saw an address at the bottom that had not 
been there the day before. In an instant the 



160 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

bravado left her and she stood aghast. She hid 
her face in her hands. 

^Oh, my God, will my shame follow me wher- 
ever I go? I meant to reform, I ' 

^Stop. Do not insult that almost sacred sen- 
timent with such a lie. You stood before my 
door last night, a self-confessed blackmailer. I 
saw, almost as soon as you came under my roof, 
your base desire to entrap us, and I knew that 
if I gave you the right kind of rope you would 
hang yourself — and you did.' 

^Don't; don't call me by the awful name you 
just named me. I am not so bad as that. I 
would not have taken a dollar from you. Had 
any one else attacked your characters I would 
have defended you. But I saw that she admired 
you, and — you know the school; rather I hope 
you don't know it, in which I have been taught ; 
where we learn that all men are base and that all 
women are weak. You were, both of you, kind 
to me, and that very kindness made me long to 
be on equal terms with you both. 

^Consider what kind of a home I had — no, not 
home, hutch. Rabbits know as much of what 
home means as I did. My mother married my 
father because he was a handsome animal, and 
so he made her a beast of burden. There I 
learned every foul word that a man can use to a 
woman. Decency was a stranger there. Why 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS? Ifil 

shouldn't I think every one was as bad as he 
taught me?' 

If to the Man's heart there came a degree of 
pity, it was a pity that was not brightened by 
hope. 

*Oome.' It was request rather than command 
that his voice expressed as he led the way to the 
looking glass. ^Look at the picture, as if it was 
that of one who is a stranger to us. Those 
largQ, roving eyes; the full, ripe lips; the de- 
velopment of the lower face; all these tell men 
that nature has won half the battle for them; 
and so they will come again and again to the 
contest, where your past has so little to offer in 
aid of your weak impulse to do right.' 

^But I pray you to give me one more oppor- 
tunity to save myself.' 

^No; not here at least. Here there would be 
no incentive to follow in the better way. 

^However, I will send you to a lovely old 
lady, who will accept my statement that you 
came out of a home that had only evil influences, 
and she will be kind to you and will ask no fur- 
ther questions. 

^I will write to her and will also telegraph 
her, so that by no chance will you come unan- 
nounced. If you really desire to remain under 
good influences you will have the opportunity to 
save yourself from yourself/ 



162 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

'I will show you that I value your kindness/ 
she said. 

More in sorrow than in a spirit of cynicism the 
Man continued: ^You Avill make her lonely 
home very bright till the novelty of the new posi- 
tion is past. Then — since you have no resources 
within yourself — ^you will be weary of the un- 
eventful life; you will be careless in your 
duties; and when you are reproved you will be 
petulant. This will grow as your ennui in- 
creases. 

Then all that was dreary and wearisome and 
repugnant in your stained life will be forgotten, 
and you will remember only the brighter side — 
and, oh, how winningiy the devil will show that 
to your weariness of goodness. You will go out 
only to take a little look into the dark waters, 
just out of curiosity, and your feet will slip on 
the slimy bank and you will be engulfed. 

^It is not a pleasant picture for me to draw — 
for you to see yourself portrayed in. But I hope 
for nothing better. Yet none the less wdll I 
welcome your drawing a lovelier one — in tones 
that will be permanent. Your letters can con- 
tinue to come here. No one need know where 
you are. I will provide amply for your journey. 
You will do well to go to-day.' 

And when she had gone he mused: ^Is it 
worth all the effort — not mine, but of that pure 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 163 

soul to whom I am sending lier? "Handsome 
animal/' she said of her father, and that is the 
quality which he has bequeathed to her. No 
moral impulse, no buttressing of purer motive 
by the memory of home and loved ones. False 
love, false friendships are most likely to come 
to her in her loneliness ; and she has lost — rather 
never acquired in the "hutch'' she was reared in 
— the delicacy that would warn her against such 
insidious influences. Yet I am glad that she re- 
coiled so sharply; glad that there was so much 
of good in her that she rebelled against the ugly 
charge I made when she entered here. 

^But will the good impulse outlast the refine- 
ment that God gives to early womanhood? 
Probably not. And then, kind and ignorant 
souls bent on doing good, and in their supreme 
ignorance seeing all hearts as free from guile as 
their own, will come to her and such as she; 
will mistake the weariness with the slavery, the 
chagrin of neglect to the fading charms, for sin- 
cere repentance; will clothe the seeming peni- 
tents with the garb of respectability, giving them 
letters of marque to go out and invade homes and 
w^ork the silent injury which their ripened judg- 
ment tells them can be effected safely — because 
the victims will never dare to complain. 

^Better, far better, that she become the sodden 
victim of alcoholism; and so^, content in stupor, 



164 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

the world will be spared the ravages of that most 
dangerous member of society — a reformed 
woman. 

^But where is the primal wrong of her environ- 
ment — for she is a victim of conditions into 
which she was born? Back of her coarse father, 
back of the weak^ soulless mother, presumably 
we must look. 

^Will a better civilization, a truer Christian- 
ity, protect childhood from ante-natal curse ?^ 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 165 



XIV. 

At first the end seemed so far away that the 
vista appeared to be interminable. But at length 
by years the prisoner counted no longer, for 
months were the milestones that marked the 
dreary procession of prison life. 

And when there came the time when only 
weeks intervened between him and freedom. 
His heart grew lighter day by day. 

When he was ready to leave the prison there 
was given to him a package. It contained a let- 
ter of advice, that bade him not to return to his 
old home, but to visit some large city; to see 
everything that w^as bright and entertaining 
there, so that he might have pleasant topics of 
conversation when he returned to his wife. It 
urged him to dress well, for a man does not re- 
spect himself if he is not well dressed. The 
writer kindly omitted "when he has nothing 
within himself to respect.'' 

The package contained sufficient money to en- 
able him to avail himself of the advice. 

It was sent from the city of his disgrace, and 
there was no signature to the letter. 

He immediately wrote his thanks to the men 



IQQ NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

who had effected his ruin. They concluded that 
it was best not to acknowledge his gratitude. 

He wrote to his wife, telling her of their gen- 
erosity and thoughtful suggestions. She had 
already written to him, telling him to come to 
her and that he would have a cordial welcome. 

But in that home cheeks had grown paler and 
lips more firmly pressed as the time for the part- 
ing approached. Yet this only in aloneness. In 
each other's presence each bore a brave front, 
and with each the sorrow was hidden, that it 
might not bring keener pain to the other. 

When only the last few days of the home 
life remained it was noticeable how much of his 
work the Man found he could do at home; how 
frequently he needed her advice. 

At length there came the last evening of his 
stay before his long deferred journey was begun. 

In his constant thoughtfulness he had recog- 
nized that a week of aloneness would make the 
husband's home coming more welcome to the 
wife, her greeting more sincere and cordial. But 
she was too oppressed to recognize this consid- 
eration. She had hoped that on this last evening 
he would tell her — in words that even in their 
calm constraint would show his pain — of the 
loneliness to which he looked forward, when he 
had returned and found her gone; would tell 
her of the joy she had brought to his life, of the 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 167 

great void that her absence would create — and 
for which nothing could compensate. 

Just like any other evening it passed, till she, 
weary of waiting for the words she would have 
treasured, made excuse and went to her ow^n 
room. 

There her disappointment and vexation found 
relief in tears, which only displaced these sor- 
rows by bringing keener pain. Being a woman, 
she put the worst possible construction on his 
reticence, nov.^ that she had grown morbid in her 
tears and solitary brooding. 

It was all plain to her now. He had expressed 
no sorrow because he felt none. He did not like 
to be alone. That was w hy he had welcomed her. 
He would miss her for a time, but probably he al- 
ready had found someone else who would make 
his home just as bright. 

And she reasoned like a real woman : because 
she admired him, every other woman would be 
glad to fill the place she was vacating. 

Not till early dawn did she fall asleep ; and as 
the day was opening there came a faint knock 
at her door and she heard the rustle of a note 
passing over the threshold. 

Her heart was too weary to regard these noises, 
till a moment later she heard the cuter door close 
and saw him passing down the street. She 
watched him till he passed out of sight. Then — 



168 NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 

having actually seen him alone; no evidence of 
that dreaded woman near him — by some principle 
of induction which no man can understand, she 
dismissed her gloomy forebodings and opened 
the note. 

In it he begged her to regard his last request. 
He told her of the comfort it would be to him in 
his loneliness to feel that she had left the room 
with every possible evidence remaining in it 
that she had occupied it. 

He begged her to arrange nothing; to leave it 
exactly as this note found it; to take her little 
ornaments, but to leave, just as it happened to 
lie, everything that was associated with their last 
evening together; then to lock the room and 
place the key in her safe drawer, adding : ^And 
neither room nor drawer will be opened till you 
return — some time within four years. Till then, 
let me feel that your room is in the charming 
disorder of the impress of your presence — just as 
if you had left it for a moment's absence.' 

She regarded his wish. Now she knew that 
the indifference at parting was not real ; that it 
veiled regrets that could not be expressed under 
the strange conditions of their leavetaking. 

When at last she was leaving their home, and 
with her husband had reached the street door, 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 169 

she returned alone to her former room and fas- 
tened on the door a card. Its inscription was : 

^BluehearcVs 
Chamber of Horrors/ 

^There, now; if that dreadful woman should 
come^ she will be just dying with curiosity to 
know what it means — and he won't dare tell her. 
And maybe then she will be jealous. Wish I 
could see his face when he reads it.' 

At the breakfast table she found another let- 
ter. It told her to go with her husband to the 
metropolis; to make themselves so well acquaint- 
ed with its principal streets and buildings that 
they could claim that city as their home. 

^Be sure to be able to speak intelligently of 
the theatres; of the churches you will probably 
be little questioned. You will take the name we 
decided it was best for you to assume. When 
ready, go to San Francisco. I enclose the card 
of my attorney there. He will give you the direc- 
tions for reaching the ranch that I will have ar- 
ranged for your occupancy — leased with oppor- 
tunity to purchase. You will see that it is located 
so that there is no danger of meeting old ac- 
quaintances.' Then there followed earnest as- 
surances of the sorrow it would give to him, if 



170 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

any need came — or even any opportunity for en- 
joyment — and she did not avail herself of the 
means that would be always at her command. 

When her husband came to her she showed him 
this letter. Dead to honor, he felt no humilia- 
tion that one who had saved his wife from wa.nt 
and from reflected shame should thus provide 
for his comfort — thus providing because his life 
w^as indissolubly bound up with his wife's hap- 
piness. 

On the other hand, she asked to see the letter 
that had come to him in the prison. She glanced 
at it hastily, then, forcing a composure, she asked 
with assumed indifference : ^May I have it and 
keep it?' She took it and hid herself. When 
she reappeared her eyes had marks of tears and 
much of the letter w^as illegible. ^Dear heart, 
did you think I wouldn't find you in every line 
of this? Did you suppose your tender though tful- 
ness could be hidden from me? Poor sinner; let 
him think it was done for his sake. But that big, 
loving heart was regarding me, only me, when 
this was written. It was all for my sake.' 

Three years have passed. Even the balmy air 
of Southern California could not bring a health- 
ful glow to the cheeks that were whitened with 
more than prison pallor. The prison physicians 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 17I 

were correct. ^Not more than four years of 
freedom can come to him — in this world.' 

As the end drew nearer, and the strength of 
manhood faded into the weakness of childhood, 
that which might have developed into true man- 
liness displayed itself. Like a little child he 
pleaded for forgiveness, and asked her to teach 
him to crave pardon from the Judge, whom he 
feared might not regard his sin with the same 
leniency which she had bestowed. Asking only 
for tenderness to an erring child, it was easy to 
give him the affection due to a repentant child, 
and so, in peace, his life ended. 

^Within four years. You were right. May I 
come?' — so ran the telegram. 

And when she comes, and they look into each 
other's faces, each heart vibrant with fear and 
with loving expectancy — fear that the years may 
have made the other's heart less constant to the 
old faithfulness — and she receives again the keys 
in token that she is again the mistress of the 
home ; and she leads him to the "chamber of hor- 
rors" and shows him its disorder, on which the 
gathered dust is evidence of how sacredly the 
lares and penates have kept the place in a seclu- 
sion devoted to her memory, then 

Will the dignified serenity of the old life be 
resumed? Will there still abide the old faith in 



173 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

each other which existed unquestioningly, be- 
cause there was no right to resent a fancied vio- 
lation of any pledge? Will each have no secrets 
from the other, because neither will be oppressed 
by the thought that each has the legal right to 
look into the other's thoughts? Will there be the 
same generous giving of self, because it was 
wholly a free gift — no right to demand? And, 
most of all, will there be the old-time thoughtful 
courtesy that power delights to banish? 

Or, will they go the Avay of the world, each 
to be reduced to a fraction of two, sacrificing 
that noblest condition of a self-poised, self-con- 
trolled individuality? 

If it is this, may it be vouchsafed that a little 
child may lead them, its tiny hands blinding them 
to the vista of the dignity and devotion of the old 
life. 



H^AZARETH OR TARSUSr 173 



XV, 



Let us go back to where we left the woman 
standing triumphantly at the threshold of the 
library. 

Triumphant her womanhood had the right to 
be, since its "sixth sense'' had penetrated his con- 
sciousness and had read there that he wished 
her to come to him. 

^Yes, you are right/ Laughingly he yielded, 
yet with a sort of awe, as he regarded that strange 
power that he knew he could not himself com- 
mand. 

^I did want you. Now take this chair, which 
I permit no one else to use — and so you are 
always quasi present, though if you often exer- 
cise such intrusiye power as you have been guilty 
of just now it will be banished, as something 
eerie; something through which you have estab- 
lished a weird power. 

^Will you find out for me, as early as you can, 
who is the regular physician in the family of the 
Rev. James Underwood?^ 



174 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

'I think that I can tell you now ; at least I have 
twice seen the carriage of old Doctor Matthews 
at the clergyman's door/ 

^My dear old friend/ the Man replied, as his 
face lighted up with satisfaction, and then 
became thoughtful in reminiscence. 

^Now, please remain seated, and do not feel 
that I am dismissing you abruptly if I go out to 
enter on some work that I have in hand.' 

She obeyed him, but only till she heard the 
outer door close; then she was at her old trick 
of watching, through the blinds, his soldierly 
bearing and buoyant step. But he never caught 
her peeping again, as he had detected her after 
their first meeting. He had rallied her so un- 
mercifully on her maladroitness that she did 
not permit him to have another opportunity to 
turn the laugh on her. 



^What use can such a picture of health and 
vigor have for an old doctor? But w^elcome, most 
hearty welcome, I give you; come right into my 
consulting room.' 

^You are right,' the Man replied; ^not even 
to a ^^mind diseased" can I ask you to minister. 
Yet to a very puzzled mind perhaps you can af- 
ford relief. I wish to ask you a few questions: 
yet if I attempt to exceed the bounds of profe.^- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSr 175 

sional secrecy do not hesitate to ignore my in- 
quiries.' 

^Oh, I have no fear of your transcending. I 
can conceive of no question you may desire to ask 
to which I could not give unreserved answer.^ 

^Thanks for the assurance; you and I need 
have no prologues. So I will ask you to tell me 
about the oldest daughter of the Eev. James Un- 
derwood. You have been his family physician for 
a long time?' 

Tor over twenty years; ever since he came 
here.' 

^Then you can tell me of her lameness. Is 
there any anchylosis of the knee ; any wasting of 
the muscles below the knee?' 

^None whatever, I can assure you.' 

^And is the articulation at the hip reasonably 
free?' 

^Eeasonably so. Indeed, except for the short- 
ening of the limb, and a slight stiffness, her limb 
is as good as any one's.' 

^I am glad of this assurance ; you have relieved 
my anxiety,' the Man replied. 

^Not one-half so much as you once took the 
weight off my heart w^hen shame and sorrow were 
impending to a family that was dear to me.' 
The fighting face came and settled like a mask 
on the Man's countenance, as he remembered the 



176 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

details of the incident which the doctor had re- 
called. 

In parting, the old doctor was fairly overflow- 
ing with happiness. It was all clear to him. He 
honored and trusted the Man, and assured him 
how sincerely he wished him every success in 
his efforts. 

He loved the child — all the more because he had 
been powerless to prevent her deformity. To be 
sure there was some discrepancy in their ages, 
but seventy regards a man of fifty years as com- 
paratively young — in defense of its own growing 
infirmities. 

In the Man^s perfect vigor ; in his power to pro- 
vide a charming home for the penniless, crippled 
girl, he felt that the advantage was thoroughly 
on her side. He would do all that he could to ad- 
vance his friend's interest. Later, when he sang 
his friend's praises in her home, he was grieved 
to find that his tribute was received so coolly. 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 177 



XVI. 

^Fair warning, sir knight! If you crush the 
tiniest of my beloved flowers, you must dismount 
and on bended knee sue for forgiveness.' 

The Man knew that to carry out his plan he 
must have a woman's aid; a woman who was 
able to keep a secret. He had chosen this woman 
as his ally, because she would not make a confi- 
dant of the husband whom she had estranged 
years ago; and the Man felt confident that his 
plan would not be generally disclosed, because, 
in a sympathy the husband had not sought, his 
friends, especially those of the distaff sex, had 
made her position almost isolated. 

It was a theory of the Man that it is unsafe to 
trust a woman who is liable to fall in love with 
her husband. He felt sure that of such peril to 
his confidence there was no danger here. 

Eeared in an atmosphere of selfishness, herself 
the fruit of a marriage that had been established 
for the sake of personal advantage — on either 
side — the woman whom the Man had taken as his 
ally had accepted the hand of the handsome 
young physician, just as she would have acquired 



178 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

any other treasure that the world had appraised 
as valuable. 

Her high vitality^ that bore with it a splendid 
flow of spirits, at first had made unnoticeable 
her vacuity of noble sentiment. In the hus- 
band's own devotion he was not critical of her 
lack of tenderness. 

But at length that love of power which lies 
sleeping in all of us till opportunity arouses it, 
overcame whatever degree of tender considera- 
tion she may have felt for him. It was a keen, 
unholy pleasure that filled her soul as she saw 
him turn pale, as if the blood had gone back to 
his heart, while an appeal for pity pleaded in his 
eyes when she first laid bare her selfishness and 
displayed the emptiness of her heart. 

It is not easy to give up an ideal : not readily 
does a noble character release itself from its 
pledge. 

Had she been as skilled as she was pitiless in 
marital torture, she would have healed the wound 
and nursed the stricken love back to life, im- 
pelled by self-interest and by the pleasant antici- 
pation of again and again watching him quiver 
under her stinging words. But she was lavishly 
wasteful of her power; too engrossed with the 
joy of its exercise to observe that the blows were 
falling on deadening nerves. 

At length — and before she had suspected how 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 179 

rapidly her resources were waning — she found 
herself bankrupt of power. 

He had waited patiently, at first tenderly, hop- 
ing that it was only a passing impatience; and 
that the true woman whom he had believed he 
had married would assert herself, and that she 
would be a devoted wife when her better self had 
conquered a passing impulse. 

At last he ceased to hope ; and when she found 
that he met her attacks with cynical calmness 
her chagrin impelled her to unbridled bitterness. 
This, and her, he regarded with amused indif- 
ference. She was drawing against ^no funds.' 
Her resources were exhausted. Then she came 
and stood over him, and was fast forgetting her- 
self in her passion of anger — at herself — because 
she had squandered her power. 

He rose and took her shoulders in a vise-like 
grasp. ^Let this be the last time that you in- 
dulge in such an exhibition. If in future your 
language is other than respectful — other than 
you would use to a man for whom you were only 
housekeeper — I will give a lease of this house to 
people who will enter it and remain here, and 
who will meet your violence with its equal if you 

try to remain. I will go to the Hotel. I 

shall provide rooms for you adjoining mine, but 
my man will see to it that you do not enter my 
apartments unless you are sent for. While you 



180 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

remain here you will exercise every care in the 
management of this house. If you fail to do 
this, I will establish a housekeeper here who 
will be sufficiently muscular to protect my rights 
— and her own. I trust that you will recognize 
that this house is large enough for each of us 
to move in his or her own orbit, and that these 
need not touch each other.' 

Loving his profession, his sincerity impelling 
him to loyalty to every obligation, he had always 
been devoted to duty. Now it was no longer 
only duty that commanded him. Activity in the 
way of duty was his ^surcease of sorrow.' The 
tenderness that another might have lavished on 
— at least divided with — all that home may in- 
clude, he gave to those who suffered. No de- 
mands were too frequent, none w^earisome, and 
more and more he grew to be ^the beloved physi- 
cian.' 

The poor found in him a considerate friend; 
he had no motive to acquire money. 

Strange and blessed alchemy that transmutes 
sorrow into the soothing balm for others' pain. 

Faithful to household duty she continued : yet 
not from fear ; but because with his asserting of 
his masterful self-command she entertained a re 
spect for Mm such as he had never before com- 
manded. Then, again, cut off from most of her 
social enjoyments, her home became more im- 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 181 

portant to her ; and, most of all, her delight and 
pride were in the magnificent parterres through 
which the Man was guiding his horse, when the 
fair challenger sounded her warning. Truth- 
fully he could compliment her on the charming 
picture that her face and figure made, set in the 
window draperies that matched and heightened 
her attractiveness. 

^I have come to ask you to lend me those 
handsome shoulders — fairest in all the country 
side — that over them I may do a kindly act ; for 
alone I would be powerless. I would fail utterly 
if I were to come out into the open and show a 
man's presence. With your ^Svoman's wit'' and 
your ingenuity I am sure of success.' 

Her face told him that the conditions were 
opportune; and it delighted him, as he unfolded 
his plan, that she was ready to co-operate with 
him. 



182 ISfAZARETH OR TARSUS f 



XVII. 

One week later : the same scene ; the same pair 
of kindly plotters. 

^Well, I am sure that you are eager to know 
all about how your plans have been executed.' 

And the Man replied: ^I had no fears that 
they would miscarry; I had confidence in your 
skill and ingenuity.' 

^And it required both to induce the mother 
to allow her daughter to come to my house. I 
think it was through piquing the mother's curi- 
osity that I succeeded. 

^When I invited the girl to take a drive with 
me she wondered why I insisted on her putting 
on one of my skirts. I had shotted it at the bot- 
tom. My carriage was at the door and we drove 
to Milburn's, where I had sent your beautiful gift 
and my saddle; for I feared my girths were too 
old and weak. I had no thought of old lame 
Duncan, who was turning away from the curb, 
having set the new girths, just as I had helped 
the girl to the pavement. 

^ "Now go right up to him and put your arms 
around his neck and tell him you love him," I 



NAZARETB OR TARSUSf 183 

said. But she shrank back to my side, and 
whispered : 

' ^^Oh, I can't. He is old and ugly, and besides 
every one would see me.'' 

' ^^Oh, you dear child ; I don't mean old Dun- 
can; I mean your own beautiful horse. He is 
yours, yours only ; from his soft brown muzzle to 
the tip of his handsome tail." 

^She looked at me in wonder a moment ; then 
threw aside her cane and went to him and wound 
her arms around his neck, kissing him and call- 
ing him all pet names. 

^I explained to her why he was trying to find 
her pocket; and when he drew out the sugar 
that I had placed there she went wild with de- 
light. It was evident, right then and there, that 
they would be the best of friends. 

' ^^Oh, my ; but isn't it a long way down to 
solid earth! He has grown two feet at least, 
since I left the ground for his back," she said. It 
was evident that she had never mounted a horse 
before.' 

^But had she no fear?' 

Tear? How could she have fear? In "the 
perfect love that casts out fear" she thought only 
of her new^ly found joy. 

^I drove by her side, out into the country. She 
would take no hints. I had to tell her plainly 
that we must return; that her horse had been 



184 ISfAZARETB OR TARSUSf 

out of work for some time and she must not 
overwork him at first. 

^I had assured myself before we started that 
her shortened limb had a firm grip on the pom- 
mel of the saddle. She will learn quickly. I 
seldom had occasion to correct her a second 
time.' 

^I can compliment you on your skill as a 
teacher. I met her yesterday. A duchess could 
not have been more haughty in her bearing when 
I complimented her on good riding. The child's 
manner told me that her father does not regard 
that which passes in his study as a confidence to 
be respected ; and for this I am most sorry, for 
his own sake.' 

The woman's face grew grave as she resumed : 
^But I must tell you of what followed and which 
moved me deeply. 

^On our return she had dropped off the skirt 
that I had given to her, and as she placed her 
hand on her own — as if it was the first link in a 
chain of recollections — her face grew strangely 
serious, then expressive of pain. Impulsively 
she came to me and knelt with her head on my 
lap. And then she confessed to me ! Think of 
it; to me, who have never done one kindly act 
except it amused me! To me that pure child 
poured out her soul. She told me of what she 
called her awful sin. 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 185 

^In childhood she had not recognized the bar- 
ring from joys of young womanhood that her 
imperfect limb would occasion. But of late she 
has grown to this recognition.' 

^I understand/ the Man interposed. ^In her 
father's religious philosophy there was no com- 
fort for her but to believe that a loving Father 
had brought this darkening of her life to test 
her faith; it taught her that it was done arbi- 
trarily, with full power to prevent it, if He had 
chosen ; but it was "part of His divine plan/' and 
so she must not murmur.' 

^You are right; and her whole soul has risen 
in rebellion. 

' "I was growing to hate God," the girl contin- 
ued. "I could have borne it if I could have con- 
sidered only myself; and could have regarded 
Him as I would regard anyone else who had in- 
jured me. But, for my father's sake, I must ap- 
pear to love Him. This life of hypocrisy was 
hardest of all. It made me hate God more be- 
cause I had to wear a mask, for father's sake. 
The time came when I must go to the commu- 
nion service. I pleaded illness and so avoided it. 
But another communion service is close at 
hand. My heart was growing harder. I knew 
God would punish me— perhaps forever — if I 
went to the communion table, even though I did 
so to save my dear father from pain. And this 



186 'NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 

made me hate God all the more. I would not 
dare to take the sacred emblems. I could not 
grieve mj blessed father by refusal." 

^By this time the child was speaking through 
sobs that the memory of the bitter struggles 
had produced. She was silent for a while — per- 
haps it was in prayer — and then she looked up, 
smiling through her tears, as she calmly and 
softly resumed : 

^ ^^But now, now it is all changed. God loves 
me. He does love me; that thought was filling 
my heart as I rode. And now I can love Him; 
and I will love Him, and it may be that the best 
way to show my love to Him is by enjoying His 
gift all that I can ; keeping my heart full of grat- 
itude to Him for the beautiful gift, His gift. 

' "Next Saturday there is to be a tennis tour- 
nament at Beatrice Malcolmson's ; she invited 
me, so kindly, but every word was a pain to me. 
A nice easy-chair was to be arranged for me in 
the best place, and I was to watch the sport in 
which I could never take part. I intended to 
stay away if I could find an excuse. Their sport 
would be mockery of my weakness. There will 
be no excuses now. Now I shall go — ^but I will 
not go among them as a helpless girl to be cod- 
dled in an easy-chair, for on the back of my dar- 
ling I will sit. There I am the equal of any of 
them, for while he is just as gentle as can be, I 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 187 

feel that I could sit tight if he was a bucking 
bronco.'^ 

^Then her sweet face, that permits one to an- 
ticipate every emotion that she will give ex- 
pression to, became self-reproachful. ^^I have not 
confessed everything/' she said with penitent de- 
mureness; ^^and I have learned a lesson. Never 
again will I believe evil of any one. I believed 
the evil that they told me of you. They told me 
you were hard and selfish; that you made your 
noble husband's life a miserable one; that you 
did not love him. I know that it is false; God 
would not have chosen you — you would not your- 
self have obeyed His command — to save me from 
my awful sin, if you had been so bad a woman 
as they told me that you were. I know that you 
are good and kind. I know that it is only those 
who envy you who have said such cruel words. 
I love you and trust you, and I will come every 
day to you and will not be in your way; I will 
take my work and sit in the stable with my dar- 
ling.'^ 

' ^^Smoother than oil, yet be they very swords,'' ' 
the woman quoted. 

^Every word that she spoke of love and trust 
stirred my inmost spirit. I longed to throw off 
the mask that you had placed on me. I would 
have done so had I been free to act, could I have 



188 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

done so without thwarting your plans, and so 
doing her a great injury. And then there came a 
gentler mood. Who knows but that it was her 
good angel that was calming and inspiring me? 
I longed to tell her the truth; to tell her that 
one who was really kind and unselfish, who 
loved to relieve distress, to deliver the oppressed, 
had given to her this new treasure. But that bet- 
ter spirit bade me be silent. I looked into that 
trustful face and a strange calm possessed me. 
It was as if an intelligence above and beyond 
myself was dominating my mind ; as if a better, 
truer self — and more real than the self that I had 
known ; that through all my life I had called my- 
self — was telling my unworthy self that I was 
not my own ; that I was not free to act as my im- 
pulse was swaying me. Told me that in the fabric 
of the child's new faith my un worthiness had 
been builded in, and that He who builded had 
chosen my unworthiness that He might glorify 
it through His abounding grace. 

^In the sweet serenity of this new-found con- 
sciousness of a nobler self than ever I had longed 
for I took the child in my arms and, resting her 
head on my shoulder, drew her to my heart as I 
had never folded any one. Then I said: "'^^ij 
child, to each of us has come to-day a glorified 
illumination of our better selves ; with each heart 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 189 

beating close to the other let each make dedica- 
tion of that better self, in quiet self-com- 
munion." ' 

Then the woman was silent, her high resolve en- 
nobling her face that was turned to him with an 
expression of entreaty. Presently she resumed : 

^I am not accustomed to asking favors; unac- 
customed to seeking help. But it is not for my 
own sake that I ask your aid. Help me to be 
what this child believes me to be. I cannot live 
a lie to her. Yet it is my thought for her that 
makes me dread that I should be iconoclast, 
and myself cast down the image that you and I 
have permitted her to believe is worthy to repose 
faith in. 

^I am sadly conscious that it is only an image 
of earth, earthy, yet you know that you are more 
guilty than I for the setting up of it.' 

Then, as the story of Pygmalion and Galatea 
was recalled, archly she said: ^Can't you pray 
to Aphrodite — your enemies say that you worship 
her — and beseech her to make this graven image 
become a real, true woman? I would ask no fur- 
ther parallel, for I am too good a friend of yours 
to permit you to follow Pygmalion's example and 
to marry^ — even if she were free — such "sl bad 
lot" as the graven image would be, if only 
Aphrodite vivified her.' 



190 'NAZARETH OR TARSU&f 

Trivial, insincere ; the noble motive shown to 
be only an impulse.' 

Thanks, ingenuous reader, for your confession. 
For you have told us that you have never experi- 
enced the joy of rising to an exalted purpose; the 
very purity of motive inspiring fear that a less 
noble past may darken the lustre of the cause es- 
poused. 

You tell us, too, that in joii is no sympathy 
with the sensitive recoiling of a new-born noble- 
ness from any outward expression; and so you 
cannot accept her play of fancy, as only the mod- 
est sheltering of the purer motive, till she is sure 
that it will meet a responsive sentiment. 

Fortunately he whom she addressed was a skill- 
ful student of expression, and so the lighter veil- 
ing of her language made the sincerity of her mo- 
tive only the more apparent. So he said : 

^But, really, I cannot permit you to take no 
credit to yourself for the peace that came to the 
child through the joy that you and I have been 
permitted to bring to her. Vividly and gratefully 
I shall always remember your willingness to help 
me in bringing that joy to her.' 

Almost as warmly as if she were defending 
herself — so eagerly her better nature was protest- 
ing against any deception even through silence 
—the woman answered: 



NAZARETH OR TARSUS? 191 

^And why shouldn't I have helped you? You 
complimented me so tactfully ; you sat your horse 
like a centaur ; you presented the plan with skill- 
ful appeal to my love of acting a part which 
would make my enemies admit that I had gen- 
erous qualities — and you didn't suspect the pres- 
ence of another ally that was aiding you. It was 
my contempt for her mother. 

^She is a Pharisaical old cat; and I knew that 
I Avould enjoy sending the child home, singing my 
praises, daily, to the mother who must endure 
them for the continuance of the happiness that I 
would be bringing to her daughter.' This with 
awarmth which was intenser than mere retrospect 
would quicken to. 

Back again to earth you have fallen, fair peni- 
tent. Icarus-like, your wings have failed you, 
as again, and "time and again," they v^^ill fail 
you. Not from a glowing warmth without will 
the lesion come, but relaxed by unguarded fires 
within, because — you are a daughter of Eve. 

^You asked a little while ago that I help you to 
be really what the child believes you to be. With 
all my heart I will give you whatever aid I can 
bring to you.' 

At once he entered on the problem. 

^Along the lines of least resistance; that is 



192 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

philosophical.' Unconsciously he was thinking 
aloud. 

^Oh, bother your philosophy and least resist- 
ance. I am a woman!' 

If in her words there was anything of self- 
depreciation, because of her lack of power to phi- 
losophize, her bridling pride in her womanhood 
quickly entered its graceful and commanding pro- 
test against anything that seemed like an admis- 
sion of conscious inferiority — because she was a 
woman. 

^^Between the lines" of her impatience his sym- 
pathetic watchfulness read the noble eagerness to 
know — the almost fear that he could not find — 
the way she penitently sought to walk in. Then 
he said : 

^A woman's home is her natural kingdom. 
There she best can command power if she is 
to effect an influence for good. Fortunate be- 
yond most women are you in that your siege can 
be laid from without. 

^All know that your noble husband is devoted 
to the relief of suffering among the poor. Every 
devoted physician experiences keen sorrow that 
his best efforts are often fruitless, because his 
skill cannot be supplemented by careful nursing. 

^I will have some kindly ^^mother in Israel" 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 193 

find from him where he would welcome such in- 
telligent nursing. 

^Into such homes of poverty you will go. You 
will demand from those whom you aid that they 
give him no idea who is their benefactor. He will 
soon recognize the benefit of your assistance ; then 
satisfaction in the better results of his attend- 
ance may lead to a sincere interest in the woman 
who is aiding him. 

^Good deeds cannot long be hidden, and when 
accident reveals them they will be all the more 
effective through sincere unostentation. When he 
discovers that the ministering angel is his wife 
you will have your opportunity. But let a calm 
self-respect wait on your penitence. For peni- 
tence is all the more impressive if it bends from 
an elevated pedestal of dignified self-respect. 
Tears influence only a weak man— permanently. 
A cringing self-abasement vrould never command 
your husband's respect. Sincere contrition will 
be all the more irresistible, if channeled in a dig- 
nified sense of the claims of your womanhood ; if 
its deep, pure current is borne along the heights 
of consciousness of lofty and ennobled motive. 

^Assiduously consider his comfort in his home, 
yet do not discover this to him. But do not relax 
your efforts — in either direction — when they 
have accomplished their service to you. Let him, 



194 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

and the world, see that not for yourself alone 
did you enter on this new life/ 

Without delay she began her service to those 
who were suffering. Equally studious she be- 
came in adding to her husband's comfort. He ap- 
preciated the thoughtfulness and thanked the 
upper servant ; who was too diplomatic to permit 
herself to lose, through needless explanations, the 
material expression of his appreciation. 

Her splendid vitality was never overtaxed. 

A little child of three years of age had won her 
love. She was never weary of listening to its 
struggles with elusive consonants and vowels. 
But the struggles grew weaker as the days went 
by, though its answering love was just as bright 
and strong. 

At last the new toys ceased to amuse. 

^I want only you, auntie dear. Hold me close, 
and sing to me soft and low\ There, Fm so happy 
now in your strong arms.' 

But she must hear from the physician's own 
lips if the case was as hopeless as it seemed. 
When she heard his footsteps she had hidden her- 
self in the closet, the door ajar so that she could 
hear his decision. 

^Dear heart, you are very weary, are you not?' 
she heard him say. 



VAZARETB OR TAR8VSf 195 

^Sometimes, but not when auntie holds me 
close to her bosom.' 

^And would you be very sorry if some time 
you were to fall asleep and when you woke up 
you were well and strong and with the angels?' 

^Not if I can take mamma and auntie and baby 
brother with me.' 

^Not with you, dear child, but they will come 
to you by and by ; and when they come you will 
be waiting for them and have everything ready 
for them.' 

^But can't I come back to comfort mamma and 
auntie and baby brother?' 

^God grant that you can return; and, if you 
can, to me too; for I need such comfort, and I 
would gladly lay my head on your pillow and fall 
asleep vrith you, and we would take each other's 
hands and go through the pearly gates together.' 

In an instant he was on his feet and looking 
angrily about him. ^I have told you that there 
must be the utmost quiet — -no agitation of the 
child.' He moved quickly towards the closet 
from which the sharp, moaning cry had come. 
As he threw the door open he saw two hands 
shielding a woman's face, and on one of the 
hands was a ring of peculiar form. His eyes 



196 NAZARETH OR TARSUS f 

seemed to regard only that, then he quietly 
closed the door. 

^But that is auntie. You mustn't scold auntie ; 
I won't love you if you do ; 1 won't come back to 
comfort you. I'll tell auntie you are sorry that 
you scolded her, and then she will come and 
comfort you when I am gone.' Truer prophet 
than you could know yourself to be, dear heart. 

^^And a little child shall lead them." 

That evening, as she sat at the tea table, he 
came behind her and laid his hands on her shoul- 
ders and said : ^Has it been all a dream — only 
an ugly dream?' 

^No, it has not been a dream. It has been a 
hard, cruel reality. But that woman is dead. I 
despise her memory. If years of loving devotion 
can blot her baseness out of your memory, I will 
give you that.' 

She was tempted to cover her face and go 
down on her knees and ask his forgiveness. But 
she remembered the Man's advice. 

She rose and turned statelily to him with 
graceful, outstretched arms; her white bosom 
heaving, her snowy shoulders glistening, her 
head thrown back, displaying ivory throat, while 
half closed, ravishing eyes, and lips molded in 
expectancy of kisses completed the grace that 
waited on the penitence which she brought to 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 197 

him — penitence none the less sincere because she 
made her grace its ally. 

She wound the shapely arms about him and 
drew him to her. ^It shall always be leap year 
in mj heart, and I will woo jou as sincerely as 
you did me in the years ago. Then a heartless 
Avoman took your heart and did not give you 
hers in return ; yet she had none then to give. Oh, 
my darling, that woman wasn't I. Think of her 
as dead ; as some one I never even knew. She is 
not worthy of thought, of even contempt from 
you. But I come to you unsullied. In all these 
years I have not had one sentiment of friendship 
for any other man. I admired you, and you 
alone ; and yet it was a man who revealed to me 
my better self. I will tell it all to you ; some time 
when you hold me in your arms.' 

He looked down at her, smilingly. ^How easy 
it is to forgive a handsome woman. But if that 
awful woman is dead, and this beautifuF crea- 
ture that I am entrapped by is to be my wife, 
then we must be publicly joined. So, as it is 
Sunday to-morrow, we will go to church together, 
and thus, before all the world, I will take you as 
my wife.' 

She kissed him her thanks for the delicate con- 
sideration that prompted him to thus demand 



198 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

from all of his friends their recognition of her as 
once more his wife. 

^You are a charming bride this morning/ A 
deeper color came in acknowledgement of his ad- 
miration. As they walked along she wanted to 
see that every one observed that she was again 
his wife. Yet she wanted to be constantly look- 
ing into his face. 

You have seen the same delightful failure to 
do both successfully when the mother of a young 
hero takes him out to show the world that it was 
she who bore him and tended him and taught 
him to be noble. 

At the church door he left her, promising to 
join her as soon as a pressing call was answered. 
He thought it wisest that she should not see 
again that dear child whose now glazing eyes and 
pains of dissolution would displace the memory 
of the sweet face that smiled so tenderly as the 
thin lips told her: ^He is sorry that he was 
cross to you, auntie, and he is so lonely; he has 
no one to love him, and you must go and comfort 
him after I am gone. Oh, he is so kind.' 

Later, when the child rested as if in sleep 
among flowers that lay on soft clouds of mist- 
like mull, he brought her to see its sweet repose, 
Then she took her husband's hand, and in her 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 199 

heart she said again — and this time so sincerely 
•—the obligations of the marriage service. 

For once the Man was wrong. She had fallen 
in love with her husband; and himself had 
wrought the undoing of his prophecy. 



goo NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 



Let us now regard the evidences of PauFs in- 
sanity; the evidences contained in the manu- 
script which the clergyman declined to consider. 

In a spirit of candid inquiry— by no means 
comprehensively, but in the hope of suggesting 
scientific examination — the author presents these 
views to skilled alienists, hoping that they can 
differentiate the indications of insanity and state 
whether the morbid condition of PauPs mind, 
when he approaches the subject of sex, was a 
primary condition of his insanity, or was the re- 
sult of insanity otherwise established. 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf oqi 



XVIII. 

"The woman . . . tempted me." 

"And Adam was not deceived ; but the woman 
being deceived was in the transgression. Not- 
v\ithstanding, she shall be saved in child bear- 
ing, if they continue in faith and charity and 
holiness, with sobriety'' (I. Tim. ii. 14, 15). 

Would that Saul of Tarsus had shown no 
graver evidence of a disordered mind than is 
indicated by this confusing change from the sin- 
gular to the plural — a plural which cannot in- 
clude the husband, since her being "saved*' can- 
not be contingent on his joining her in practis- 
ing the virtues named. 

But let us consider the import of these sen- 
tences. 

The inference naturally drawn from the first 
proposition is : Adam was not in the transgres- 
sion; and the consequent conclusion is, that 
Adam was unjustly driven from the Garden. 

But how preposterous is the second statement ! 
Surely no sane mind would thus imply the ex- 
clusion of chJMlesH wives and unmarried women 
from the saving power of the Christ. 

But if we insist that Paul was inspired, "what 



202 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

further need have we of witnesses" to the benefi- 
cence of Mormonism efforts for the salvation of 
women? How heroic, truly so, become the sac- 
rifices of the fading wives, who are supplanted; 
since the souls of those who supplant ^^shall be 
saved in child bearing," while the men who thus 
assume the added responsibilities must no longer 
be regarded as selfishly seeking their own pleas- 
ure, but are ministers of grace to women, who 
would remain in the transgression of Eve if these 
noble, self-denying men did not open to them the 
gates of heaven through conferred maternity. 

If a wholly artificial yet conveniently arbi- 
trary meaning is given to these words, and it is 
assumed that ^^child bearing" refers to the in- 
carnation of the Christ, there can be shown no 
appositeness in their application to women 
only: while the discrimination against woman, 
as shown in the first sentence, makes it improb- 
able that the leading thought in PauPs mind was 
of the incarnation. 

But further on we find the impelling sentiment 
of this denunciation of woman. For the pruri- 
ent imagination which St. Paul shows in his com- 
m^ands in regard to the care of widows (I. Tim. v. 
3-16) is accompanied by the further evidence of 
that cultivated contempt for women which mani- 
fests itself so often in his writings. 

No sane or pure mind could have written : ^^But 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 203 

the younger widows refuse (to relieve?) ; for 
when they begin to wax wanton against Christ, 
they will marry ; having damnation, because they 
have east off their first faith." Surely such 
neglect and sweeping denunciation would be an 
incentive to wantonness. 

So, too, is his bitter denunciation of widows of 
any age under sixty years. 

However, when another mood possesses him, he 
says: ^^But if (I. Cor. vii. 39) her husband be 
dead, she is at liberty to be married to whom she 
will, only in the Lord." 

Again : his morbid imagination is shown in 
I. Cor. xi. 2-16 : ^^But every woman praying or 
prophesying with her head uncovered, dishon- 
oreth her head. For this cause ought a woman to 
have a sign of authority on her head, because of 
the angels." It is hard for a sane mind to dis- 
cover a reason why the angels should be dis- 
turbed if a woman was not veiled, though it is 
easy enough to fabricate fanciful explanations. 

He adds : "For the man is not of the woman 
but the woman of the man," and a few verses 
later he says: "For as the woman is of the 
man, so is also the man by the woman." A sense- 
less attempt to depreciate womanhood. 

I. Cor. xiv. 34-36: Supercilious as he was 
towards the law, he does not hesitate to quote the 
law when he desires to express his contempt for 



204 'NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

women; a contempt that is expressed in scorn 
and sarcasm at the close of this quotation. 

In these disdainful expressions he shows an 
estimate of womanhood that is so thoroughly at 
variance with the language and actions of our 
Lord that — if we accept Paul's language as au- 
thoritative, his sentiments as just — we must rec- 
ognize that our Lord was strangely ignorant of 
the true character of the sex. 

In striking contrast is St. Peter's delicacy and 
his respect for women when he refers to marital 
obligations, and to the proper conduct of mar- 
ried women; thus showing that Paul's coarse- 
ness was inherent with himself — not demanded 
in rebuke — and St. Peter's intercourse with the 
Gentiles seems to have been nearly as great as 
was Paul's. 

Rather let us regard Paul's utterances as indi- 
cating a soul that had vainly attempted to disci- 
pline itself out of the realm of natural affection, 
but had produced only a diseased intellect^ — that 
saddest form of mental obliquity which refracts 
any impulse into the plane of demonstrated 
truth ; and permits the end to justify the means 
in producing a desired conviction. 

Rom, i. 24 : Even more convincing is the re- 
volting account that Paul gives of the sensuality 
of unbelievers. 

While it may be a truthful picture of their 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 205 

degradation, it has no appositeness here. He 
opens the chapter by praising the faith of the 
church at Rome; he acknowledges the purity of 
the lives of those whom he addresses, with whom 
he hopes to ^^be comforted by the mutual faith, 
both of you and me." Only a morbid imagina- 
tion, directing a mind which had become un- 
sound, could have introduced this repugnant de- 
scription — a description wholly foreign to the 
conditions which he was regarding — and there is 
nothing to indicate that he intended it as a warn- 
ing. 

Rom. ii. 1 : And although he says "Thou doest 
the same things," he has clearly indicated that in 
this he was denouncing idolators ; for there is no 
evidence that the revolting picture which he drew 
(Rom. i. 23) Avas in any way applicable to par- 
ticular members of the church at Rome; which, 
in its entirety, he had commended so warmly. 

None of the other New Testament writers — 
nor all — found it necessary to consider condi- 
tions incident to sex to the extent that Paul has 
done in a single chapter ( I. Cor. vii. ) . This chap- 
ter is clearly the product of a mind which has 
given undue thought to sexual relations ; that is, 
fascinated by the contemplation of tendencies 
which he counsels superiority to. Yet even this 
fascination cannot long restrain that erratic 
thought which is a consequent of insanity. For 



206 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

he here ( 18-24 ) digresses ; only to be dominated 
towards the end of the chapter, by the same mor- 
bid impulses that directed its first half. 

The contradictions of an unbalanced mind are 
shown by (I. Cor. xi. 5) his giving permission to 
women to pray or prophesy — evidently in public 
gatherings; but soon (xiv. 34) he says: ^^Let 
your women keep silence in the churches/' and 
there seems to have been no lapse of time to per- 
mit his opinion to be changed by further experi- 
ence. 

I. Cor. vi. 12-15 : Most difficult of all of PauPs 
writings I conceive these verses to be. First he 
states that ^^all things are lawful for me.'' But 
there closely follov/s it such reference to sexual 
impurity, and there precedes it a recounting of 
grosser forms of impurity, so that one is per- 
plexed in trying to fathom his intent in associat- 
ing the comprehensive ^^all," in stating what is 
allowable for him to do, w^hen his mind is dwell- 
ing emphatically on sexual relations. 

But what apology, other than insanity, can be 
offered for the next verse? That would seem to 
be the only excuse for the strange perversion of 
the words of our Lord. He says (Matt. xix. 5) : 
^Tor this cause shall a man leave his father and 
mother and shall cleave to his wife; and they 
twain shall become one flesh.'' But Paul says: 
^^Know ye not that he that is joined to a harlot 



t^AZ ARETE OR TARSUS f 307 

is one body? for the twain, saith He, shall be one 
flesh.'' Had any one but Paul thus misquoted 
the words of our Lord Ave would have called it 
blasphemy. Paul's clouded, yet arrogant, intel- 
lect made him indifferent to the perverting of our 
Lord's language. But this degrading of His ut- 
terances turned a phrase in a Avay that satisfied 
the moment, and Paul was indifferent to the sac- 
rilege. 

Hence naturally we find that twice he gives 
himself precedence of our Lord in ^^My gospel 
and the preaching of Jesus Christ," yet the ])rece- 
dence might not be so clear in its intent but for 
the third instance (I. Cor. v. 5) : ^^Ye being gath- 
ered together and my spirit, with the power of 
our Lord Jesus, to deliver such a one unto Satan 
for the destruction of the flesh." Although this 
may be softened in translation, it does not qual- 
ify Paul's arrogance, in his claiming a power to 
command the aid of our Lord to deliver the of- 
fender to Satan. 

The easy and confidential relations which he 
seems to have established with Satan are further 
shown in (I. Tim. i. 20) : ^^Of whom is Hyme- 
nseus and Alexander, whom I delivered unto 
Satan that they might be taught not to blas- 
pheme." His ability to command the exercise of 
divine vrrath is asserted equally with his claim to 



208 ISfAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

possess the power to employ Satan as an admin- 
istrator of discipline. 

(Gal. i. 8) : ''But though we, or an angel from 
heaven, should preach unto you any gospel other 
than that which we preached unto you, let him be 
anathema." 

Evidently Paul had learned to ''sow beside all 
w^aters.'' 

And again he says : 

II. Tim. xi. 8 : "Eemember that Jesus Christ 
was raised from the dead according to my gos- 
pel." 

Eom. ii. 16 : "In the day when God shall judge 
the secrets of men by Jesus Christ, according to 
my gospel." 

I. Cor. vi. 2, 3: "Or know ye not that the 
saints shall judge the world? Know ye not that 
ye shall judge angels?" 

Could insane egotism lead to a greater pre- 
sumption in assuming a knowledge of God's 
plans? 

What was PauFs authority that God's scrip- 
tural plan of governing man — a plan so carefully 
elaborated — was not only an utter failure but in- 
herently so? In II. Cor. iii. 7, he calls its com- 
mandments "the ministration of death." Only 
the reckless temerity of a disordered mind im- 
bued with arrogance would have impelled to 
£i cli characterizing of the law — that its failure 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 309 

was inevitable and predestined. This theory, so 
boldly assumed, he attempts to vindicate by : ^^It 
was added because of transgression" (Gal. iii. 
9 ) , a statement which admits of such varied in- 
terpretations that it does not explain. 

Boastfully he says (I. Cor. xv. 10) : ^'But I 
labored more abundantly than they alP' (the 
twelve apostles) ; and later implies that this 
"more abundantly'' was because God's grace was 
bestowed on him with a fullness which exceeded 
that which was bestowed on all of the twelve. 

II. Cor. xi. 15 ; xii. 11 :* Here, as elsewhere, he 
parades his sense of equality with the other apos- 
tles; and in this epistle there are frequently re- 
curring "vain repetitions" of his obtrusive self- 
exaltation, which he develops rather than con- 
ceals by his attempt to veneer it with assumed 
humility. 

Paul made a statement directly opposed to the 
account given in Acts, of his conference with the 
apostles, and of that which led up to it. 

Practically, too, he denies St. Peter's call to 
apostleship to the Gentiles : the call that was so 
clearly made through the vision of the great sheet 
let down by the four corners. We must reject 

* Fruitful as were the so-called Pauline churches — "the 
garden of Christianity " — we must not forget the devoted ser- 
vices of others, who are significantly suggested in his ' ' all that 
are in Asia are turned against me." 



2]0 NAZARETH OR TARSUS P 

one side of this evidence. We cannot accept both 
as true. 

His writings bristle with the capital I, and he 
describes general tendencies of the race as if they 
were peculiarly personal to himself; so strongly 
does self-consciousness overpower him. 

I. Cor. ix. : This is a marked illustration of 
the egotism that often accompanies insanity. 

^^The complex relations of faith, works, im- 
puted righteousness, and the law as the revealer 
of sin, gave to St. Paul that opportunity for the 
display of scholastic reasoning in which he so 
thoroughlj^ delighted, for the sake of its intel- 
lectual exercise, and which has a glittering sem- 
blance of truth in monologue, though in pure 
polemics its lapse from accurate reasoning, its 
false deductions, its assumed premises, would 
be exposed before his ingenious conclusions had 
carried conviction.'' 

^^One phase of his intense self-absorption is 
shown in the inappositeness of his quotations 
from the Scriptures. It could not be from ig- 
norance that he failed to quote them pertinently. 
That he had them in mind is evident, for he was 
constantly denouncing the law, and the denun- 
ciatory passages would have eminently attracted 
him.'' But his thoughts were so self -centered 
that he must have been as averse to the guid- 
ance of the Scriptures as he was eager to boast 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 211 

that he was in no way indebted to the chosen of 
our Lord. 

Only a mind that was so unbalanced that it de- 
lighted to reason from distorted truths or from 
false premises could have presented the proposi- 
tion (Rom. vi. 1-15) : ^^Shall we continue in sin 
that grace may abound?'^ '^Shall we sin because 
we are not under law, but under grace?" And 
even these propositions are illogical deductions 
from (verse 20) the evidently false premises that 
the law was promulgated, not to be the ^^school- 
master to lead us to Christ/' but to intensify the 
sinfulness of sin— or whatever Paul may have 
meant by ^^that the offense may abound." Here, 
for the sake of creating an illustration, he does 
not hesitate to attribute an arbitrary and un- 
natural motive, when he refers to God's inscruta- 
ble plan of revealing His will in the Mosaic dis- 
pensation. 

Eambling, discursive, disjointed, his thoughts 
run. 

He abruptly drops the subject under considera- 
tion and takes up a new and totally unconnected 
thought; but presently — and as abruptly as he 
changed — he returns to the previous thought. He 
lays down certain propositions and elaborates 
them. Then he propounds an etirely new thesis 
and goes on to argue from it; as if it had been 



212 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

demonstrated by the previous reasoning — though 
in no way deducible from that which precedes. 

One of the most serious of these lapses is 
shown in Gal. v. 14 : ^Tor all the law is fulfilled 
in this. Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.'' 
The love to God omitted ; as only an unbalanced 
mind could forget to add. And it was Christian 
duty he was exemplifying — not contrasting it 
with the Mosaic law. 

All these instances are proofs of a disordered 
mind ; as is also Paul's manifestations of that in- 
tense egotism which always attends certain forms 
of mental aberration. It is this which leads him 
to employ so largely the first person singular, 
— even where a general or impersonal proposition 
makes it inappropriate. 

And this egotism takes a form more repug- 
nant — though none the less instructive — in his 
expressions of contempt for the twelve apostles, 
and in his claim of a direct ^^revelation by Jesus 
Christ." 

Gal. ii. 2-14 : Here his sense of superiority to 
and his contempt for the twelve is clearly shown, 
and he boasts that he publicly denounced Peter 
(verses 20-21) ; then extols his own righteous- 
ness. 

In marked contrast was St. Peter's charitable 
construction of Paul's language; and also the 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 213 

care that the apostles took to save Paul from the 
violence of the Jews in Jerusalem. 

His intense intellectual pride impels him to 
attempt scholastic argument. But the results are 
illogical and involved (Kom. v. 12-21 and vii. 
7-25), the thought becomes confused, the argu- 
ment ceases to be sustained and coherent, conclu- 
sive evidences of a distraught mind. Only such a 
mind could have conceived: ^^For the creation 
was subject to vanity (Rom. viii. 20-21) ; not of 
its own will, but by reason of him who subjected 
it, in hope that the creation itself also shall be 
delivered from the bondage of corruption, into 
the liberty,'' etc., etc. Now the consequent "in 
hope," etc., is utterly senseless. To say that "the 
creation was subject to vanity" "in the hope that 
it shall be delivered" is thoroughly unmeaning. 
In PauFs distraught mind there was an interme- 
diate idea. But the flaccid will — which is a 
marked feature of insanity — failing to control 
the vagaries of his thought, allowed the conjunc- 
tive phrase to be expelled from its place and to be 
forgotten. This lapse may have been ; neverthe' 
less it contimied "in hope that the creation itself 
also shall be delivered." The observant reader 
will find repeated instances of such lapses. 

Later on, in Romans, his erratic attempts at 
reasoning are exhibited in his stating that the law 



314 NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 

cannot give to man power to lead a new life. It 
commands, yet it does not give power to obey; 
implying that man had not been divinely en- 
dued with power to obey the commands laid 
upon him ; and he teaches that, although good in 
itself, it has for men only a pernicious effect, 
since it incites to sinful desires. The conclusion 
is directly opposed to the premises. 

Kom. ix.-xi. : It is IsraeFs own fault to have 
rejected salvation; on the other hand it was 
God's will that it do so. No sane mind would in- 
troduce such contradictions. 

Israel is at present rejected in order that place 
might be made for the heathen. But by this ad- 
mission of the heathen, Israel is to be stirred to 
jealousy. But he gives no reason why the sav- 
ing grace is not so vast that Jews and Gentiles 
could not have received it simultaneously. 

"God gave them (the Jews) a spirit of stupor; 
eyes that they should not see; ears that they 
should not hear;'' and elsewhere he attributes a 
harsh arbitrariness to God. 

From a sane mind these statements would be 
blasphemous claims of familiarity with God's 
purposes. Doubly sacrilegious are these claims 
because contrary to his asserted "revelation in 
Jesus Christ" ; yet of value as showing that Paul 
was always at heart a Pharisee, unable to free 
himself from the rabbinical conception of God's 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 215 

arbitrariness; and, as a consequence, clearly 
proving that he had neither the intellectual per- 
ception, nor the spiritual insight to recognize 
the true mission of the Christ. 

Observe his long sentences ; with attempts at il- 
lustration and explanation by interjected matter ; 
but which new matter is often discovered to be a 
new proposition ; and not till w^e have traversed 
laboriously these intermediate ideas do we find 
the conclusions of his original propositions. 

Such lapses and irrelevant additions plainly 
indicate a disordered mind, unable to maintain 
continuous and logically developed reasoning. 

He gives us another instance of this in ^^But 
before faith came (Gal. iii. 23) we were kept in 
ward under the law ; shut up unto the faith which 
should be afterwards revealed. So that the law 
hath been our tutor to bring us to Christ;'' not 
regarding that — in Romans — he has taught that 
the law has a pernicious effect, and incites to evil 
desires. A few verses later he changes the figure, 
and makes the world — not the law — the power 
which restrains us. ^^So we also, when we were 
children, were held in bondage under the rudi- 
ments of the world," till the coming of Christ. 
But he has previously said: ^Tor as many as 
are of the works of the law are under a curse'' 
(Gal. iii. 10). 

While many a school boy thinks that his "tu- 



216 NAZARETH OR TARSU^f 

tor" is a ^^curse/' it is preposterous to assume 
that any sane reasoner could argue that a 
^^curse" could be ^^our tutor to bring us to Christ." 
No stretch of poetic license, nor fine distinctions 
between the ^^law" and ^^the works of the law," 
can excuse these extravagances ; nor permit these 
impulsive utterances to be dignified with the au- 
thority of inspired truth. No well balanced mind 
could fail to recognize the incongruity of naming 
^^the rudiments of the world" and the ^^curse of 
the works of law" as wholesome and discipli- 
nary influences to prepare the ^^children" to at- 
tain the freedom of majority in Christ. 

Most noticeable is his very frequent repetition 
of the word ^for,^ as if desiring to establish the 
conclusions of previous propositions; yet those 
previous propositions having no connection with 
assumed deductions. 

Instances illustrating every phase of PauPs 
morbid and distraught mind are so numerous 
that it is needless to quote them. But the reader 
who encounters them in a spirit of candid in- 
quiry cannot but recognize that PauFs unbal- 
anced mind led him to believe that there were 
natural sequence of ideas, when in reality his 
assumed conclusions had no relation to his pre- 
mises. There is a marked illustration of these 
vagaries— and showing, too, that even Paul 
recognized, how little reliance could be placed on 



NAZARETH OR TARSUSf 217 

claims of special revelation, as evidence of in- 
spiration — in (Col. ii. 18, 19) : ^^Let no man rob 
you of your prize, by a voluntary humility, wor- 
shipping of angels, dwelling in the things which 
he hath seen, vainly puffed up in his fleshly 
mind." 

Now this is senseless; compelling the reader 
to indulge in arbitrary inferences as to the mean- 
ing of "prize'' and "voluntary" and "worship- 
ping of angels" ; and by filling any hiatus from 
his own fancy. 



THE END. 



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